


Moonstruck

by fullmoontonightt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Everyone Is Alive, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Mutual Pining, Sort Of, Spark Stiles Stilinski, The Hale Pack - Freeform, Werewolf Culture, sort of a coffee shop au but in a pub
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 44,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoontonightt/pseuds/fullmoontonightt
Summary: Is this place a werewolf bar?  It might be because he’s slightly drunk, but that is the single coolest thing Stiles thinks he’s ever heard.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 44
Kudos: 342





	1. The place on the corner

**Author's Note:**

> So I love being in a pub, so here is a bartending AU with werewolf mythology mixed in!! 
> 
> I fell in love with Kiara Hale, my own version of Derek's older sister between him and Laura and I just had to make her shine. Also I love taking on different forms of spark magic and what it could do so I have a new take on it !! Thanks for wanting to check it out 
> 
> will be updated about once a week (don't tie me down tho)

After years of helping your best friend find his way into his newly changed werewolf body - which sound more like the title of some niche sexual health pamphlet than he meant for it to - and years of getting dragged into outright supernatural violence, a human learns quite a bit more about supernatural defence and weapon techniques than he might have imagined he would. 

Or well human..spark apparently. Whatever that is. Deaton had never really given him the whole ‘you’re a wizard’ speech, but from what Stiles had gathered over the last few years it mostly means he’s good with mountain ash and wolfsbane. 

Which is not exactly as cool and flashy as he might have expected him being magic would be, but you know it’s..useful. He can tell what kind of wolfsbane is being used where and when, even if its scent is masked. He can identify which specific herbs must have been used in spells and in what quantity. He can have a mountain ash circle laid out within half a second and he can turn a strand of mistletoe into a weapon without even blinking. 

Maybe that is why his drunk self had suddenly pulled Lydia into the random bar at the edge of their neighbourhood. They were strolling down the streets, laughter falling from their lips at the failed show Lydia’s dragqueen coworker had just performed and reveling in the electric feeling of the still young night, when Stiles’ head suddenly snapped up. A tingle forms underneath his skin, a fast paced tapping sensation rushing through his pulse, and Stiles can’t help but follow the pull towards the redpainted corner pub in front of them. 

Whilst it doesn’t look like anything special, just your average Sacramento bar, Stiles can tell there’s something about this place. Something that entices him. Something he needs to see.

Not that Lydia was complaining, his closest friend had been working her damn ass off at her intern research position and this was her first free night out in ages. Another bar and many other drinks was probably all she wanted right now. Whipping her braided hair over her shoulder, she seems more eager than him now as she grabs a hold of the metal doorhandle and strides inside. The flowy fabric of her dress makes her look like an empress as she walks in and he shakes his head, already knowing she is planning on coaxing innocent men out of their drinking money. 

The place is surprisingly packed when they enter, every table and booth filled to the brim, and groups of people are even just standing around in the place as they laugh and chat amongst each other. There’s a pleasant atmosphere to the place and whilst it’s not currently a place for dancing, Stiles can tell that in a few hours it might be. Quite a few heads turn their way as the door falls into its lock behind them and Stiles grins, Lydia is known to have that effect.

So much apparently, that he’s immediately lost her to three men that look to be around their early thirties. He lets his eyes scan over them briefly, checking for any signs of bad intent, but the casually smart blazers they’re all wearing quickly reveal them as the exact type Lydia liked to go for on nights like these: rich, handsome and good in bed. He snickers a little when noticing one of them somewhat resembles Jackson. Looks like that one is probably coming home with them then.

And why shouldn’t she? She works hard enough. Grinning slightly to himself, he decides to make his way towards the bar. The pull is still present within his limbs, his skin feeling tight around his muscles, but for some reason his spark is struggling to pinpoint the exact location he’s drawn to. He knows it is a supernatural herb of some sort, and whilst that would usually worry him, for some reason his spark just feels pleased, feels attracted to whatever it is. 

Oh well, he’ll figure it out later. Alcohol and herb detection had never been the best of friends. He slides onto one of the stools that was still unoccupied in front of the bar. There’s a girl about his age behind it, dark brunette hair framing her sharp jawline, and her eyes flick to his with interest. She steps forwards, brows inquisitive. “What can I get you?”

“Can I get two gin tonics?” Glancing over at Lydia, he quickly corrects himself, grinning. “Actually make that one, seems like my friend has already found herself a different piggy bank.”

The girl grins at that, eyes following his before they roll in what has to be the most impressive eye roll he’s ever seen. She shakes her head as she looks at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes. “She the redhead? Yeah, she’s just Parrish’ type.”

“That’s her.” He grins, still glancing Lydia’s way. Apparently that guy is a regular then, or a friend of the bartender, which makes him feel a bit better about leaving Lydia alone with him. He sends the barmaid a small grin as he shrugs. “Looks like it’s just me then.” 

“And me.” The girl grins as she extends her hand. “I’m Cora.”

He smiles. “Nice to meet you, I’m Stiles.”

Cora only briefly pauses at the mention of his name, which is less of a reaction than he usually gets, before shrugging as she moves to get a bottle of roku gin from the back wall. Her movement is fluent behind the bar, making it obvious she’s not new in the bartending scene. Carrying the bottle underneath her arm, she steps back forwards in order to make his drink. Her eyebrows are raised as she looks at him. “So you new in town?” 

“No, just never really been to this place before. Figured we should check it out.” Probably not the best idea to mention he was literally drawn here. He still isn’t sure what about this place pulled him in, but he isn’t hating it in the slightest. The bar feels very welcoming for some reason.

“You should.” The corners of the Cora’s lip rise, something teasing visible in the movement, as thin slices of cucumber get joined by the sparkling tonic in a tall glass. “We’re fun.”

Stiles chuckles and Cora sends him a pointed look, as if daring him to disagree. He wouldn’t dare too, the girl genuinely looks kind of scary, and he throws his hands up in surrender as a reply. Cora just rolls her eyes and smirks as she goes to help a customer on the other side of the bar.

Stiles doesn’t mind and uses the moment to observe Lydia, who’s now seated in one of the leather corner boots with Jackson guy. He wants to roll his eyes, but at the same time he can’t help but smile.

Neither of them had really dated the last two years. Sure, they’d had a couple of one night stands, but never really dated. Which made sense. They were still trying to get back to living a normal, human life. Away from the supernatural drama. Dating was the least of their priorities. Moving to Sacramento had helped a lot though. 

It wasn’t that they hated Beacon Hills, okay yes maybe a little, but every nook and corner of the town felt like a reminder of everything that had happened. The pain and sadness that had filled up his teenage life, the feeling of claws against his skin, of being tied up in a basement, the scars marking his body, the deaths he’d witnessed there. It was no longer a place either of them could truly call home. 

So when he decided to move to Sacramento, Lydia quickly followed him. They’d both needed a fresh start. The two of them lived quietly in a two bedroom apartment as they tried to scramble their lives back into a somewhat normal pattern. Stiles had been liking this new life, his criminology course was just as interesting as he’d hoped for, he works at the local bookstore and getting out of Beacon Hills had been exactly what he needed in order to move on from that constant feeling of dread. But the town had still shaped them, messed them up a little, made them constantly stand on guard and trust no one but each other. It was refreshing to see Lydia smiling and gushing with a guy in a pub, like they were just normal people. 

Suddenly the tapping underneath his skin starts to kick up its tempo. His spark calling inside of him. Narrowing his eyes, he glances around the room, his fingers tingling, and when his eyes flick back to the bar he suddenly feels it.  _ Monkshood. _

Confused, he stares at the wooden structure. Nothing had really changed in the last five seconds, except..Cora having opened one of the taps. Beer now flowing freely into a pint glass. Wait. Was there wolfsbane..in the beer?

He abruptly stands up, probably looking like an idiot to Cora, as he lets his mind run over the possibility. If there was wolfsbane in the beer, that would mean that this place caters to werewolves. That this place is a werewolf bar. An actual werewolf bar. It might be because he’s slightly drunk, but that is the single coolest thing he thinks he’s ever heard. 

Stepping away from the bar and out of the walking path, he briefly closes his eyes in order to let his spark fully take over his senses. A wary feeling comes over his chest as rich smells of blossoming meadows, wolves, freshly fallen rain and drops of blood fill up his nose. Yeah, there’s definitely wolfsbane in this building, a lot of it at that. Both in the taps as well as behind the door marked with a staff only sign. Interesting.

He is in a fucking werewolf bar. He can’t help his own snicker, an ecstatic feeling coming over him at this realization, and before he can even think about it he’s off on a quest for more evidence. Making his way through the crowd, his eyes scan over the people around him. Whilst he’s sure some of them are human, the young girl in the yellow crop top has a plaster on her hand for instance, there are definitely werewolves in here. 

He never used to be able to tell from sight alone, but after six years of living the werewolf life he’s trained his eyes. It’s always visible in the little things; the flashing of the nostrils, the alertness, the way they hear everything that goes on and therefore never have to scream or repeat themselves, the focus in their eyes as they attempt to listen to a heartbeat. And also..there are quite a few people sniffing him as he passes them by. 

He smiles. He knows his spark scent is often confusing as there aren’t that many sparks around, but yes, definitely werewolves. 

Now that he’s realized what this pub is, it becomes more and more obvious. The walls are decorated with tin beer advertisements and some framed movie posters. Red little riding hood, an American werewolf in London and even Twilight. Stiles can’t keep his smirk hidden. This place is definitely a werewolf joint. 

He turns, wanting to share his findings with Lydia, when instead he seems to walk into a hard wall of, probably werewolf, muscle. About half of his gin tonic splashes over the edge of its glass and he curses as he stumbles back from the sudden force. A hand curls around his wrist, steading him, and Stiles shakes his head. Profanities are wanting to fall from his lip but they die down when he comes face to face with possibly the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.

High cheekbones lay on top of dark stubble Stiles can’t help but want to rub his cheek against and his knees start to wobble as his eyes meet the most incredible multi colored ones. They stare at each other for a full second, eyes intense, the stranger's hand still wrapped around his wrist tightly. The other man’s brows are frowning at him. “You should watch out where you’re going.”

With that, he walks on. Okay, so hottie is also a total ass. 

Stiles pretends to not watch that ass as he leaves and yelps when there’s suddenly a different stranger in front of him. This one has big blonde curls and a rather exposed cleavage, with red lips smirking teasingly at him. “Don’t mind him, he’s a bit of a grump. But hi, I’m Erica.” 

Her eyes go over him in a quick movement and her smirk intensifies. “Do you want a shot?” 

She’s carrying a tray with plastic shot glasses on them, about three quarters of them coloured purple and the rest a calm blue. He grins, already having a feeling what that division is about, and he smirks as he realizes this is literally the perfect moment to test his hypothesis. He looks up at Erica coyly, playing a naive human. “Sure! What’s the difference?” 

He can see her thinking over her words, but only briefly, before she releases a laugh and simply hands him a blue one. “This one is better, trust me.” 

“Sure,” he can feel his grin expanding, he was totally right. Purple for wolfsbane, blue for humans. His fingers curl around the tiny glass and he downs the liquid in one go, the sensation biting in his throat. Right, that’s just regular tequila for you. 

Erica just stares at him with a frown when he finishes, still holding a salt shaker and lemon in her other hand, and Stiles can’t help but laugh at that visual. “Sorry was I too quick? Finishing quick is not usually what I’m known for.”

The laugh that comes out of her is almost cackling and Stiles finds he likes the sound of it. Her eyes go over him appreciatively. “Whatever you’re known for cutie, you’re not respecting the age old tequila ritual.” 

Stiles smirks, looking her way daringly. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done then?” 

“I’m on the clock, handsome.” She looks over at where Cora is still occupied behind the bar and back at him, now grinning. “Not that they’ll know if I do one quick.”

The next thing he knows she’s holding onto his hand, somehow still balancing the tray with shot glasses - probably with some werewolf strength if he were to guess - and letting grains of salt fall onto his hand. She looks at him suggestively as she licks them off. He shudders under the sensation. “Let’s find out who’s fastest then.”

She wins. Obviously. But Stiles proves her wrong the round after and before he knows what’s happening they’re laughing and cracking jokes as if they’ve been friends for years. He sputters out a laugh as he looks at the blonde with disbelief. “So wait, you don’t think Idris Elba is the perfect James Bond?” 

Erica rolls her eyes at him. “That’s not what I said at all. I love Elba but I think he’s far above playing in such a stupid franchise.”

“A stupid franchise?” Stiles gasps, how dare she. He’s about to lay in on her hard, when gorgeous guy from earlier is suddenly next to them. Stiles swallows at the aggressive manner in which his brows are folded down into a scowl. His voice is rough and lined with annoyance when he speaks up. “Erica. Do I need to remind you you’re working?”

For a second Erica looks a little flustered, before she seemingly decides she doesn’t care and rolls her eyes at the hottie. “Fuck you Derek. I’m entertaining consumers. That’s working too.”

Hottie, Derek apparently, doesn’t seem to agree with that statement as he pointedly motions for Erica to go back to work. Erica doesn’t look like she’s going to take his shit and sticks out her tongue at him as she pushes him backwards. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll continue my round you dick.”

Before she leaves she sends him a genuine smile, kindness in her eyes as they flick down to the old t-shirt he’s wearing. “You going to tell me your name, Batman?” 

He grinicks. “Maybe some other day Catwoman.”

“All right, keep your secrets.” Laughter is sparkling in her eyes and Stiles grins at the reference, realizing he really likes this girl.

She moves on with the tray, handing out shots to other customers, and leaves Stiles alone with mister tall, dark and handsome, who simply glares at him before walking off. Stiles frowns. He gets that he distracted Erica whilst she was working but there’s no need to be all rude about it. Rolling his eyes, he goes to say bye to Cora before grabbing Lydia and taking her home.

The two of them are joined by Jackson lookalike guy as they walk to their apartment. 

\--

His cereal tastes weird in his mouth, soppier than he’s used to it being, and he idly checks the back of the milk curtain in an attempt to blame the expiry date. No gives though. He forces himself to eat it, even if he’d much rather stuff his face with something bathed in grease. God, he’d forgotten how hard hangovers could hit. The dull throbbing behind his forehead is there to remind him of that fact though.

The sound of Lydia’s bedroom door opening makes him look up and he already grins. At least her and Jackson guy’s walk of shame will be entertaining. His laughter fades however when just Lydia walks out. And of course, there’s not a trace of hangover, their total four hours of sleep or even drunken delight visible in her. Already dressed in a cropped knitted sweater with her ruffled plaid skirt, she looks ready to leave for the day. Stiles can’t help his displeased sigh as he stares down at his own worn Marvel pajama set. Even after two years of living together, Lydia never looked any less than perfect.

Lydia arches an unimpressed brow at him as she enters their kitchen, passing him by in order to turn on their coffee machine, and the sound of her heels on their tiles does nothing positive for his mood. 

What does fill him up with excitement is the fucking werewolf bar they found last night. As soon as they got home Stiles’ mind couldn’t help but race through all the possibilities. Not only is it the coolest idea ever, it is also incredibly smart. Sacramento is a big city and whilst Stiles and Lydia never really ran into large supernatural communities, there must be plenty of weres in town. Weres that wouldn’t mind being able to screw their heads off every other weekend. 

“So, how cool was last night huh?” He can’t help but smile as he asks, still so thrilled at the fact they just randomly wandered into a werewolf bar. “Looks like we finally found the supernatural epicentre of Sacramento.” 

That makes Lydia turn, her eyebrows furrowing, as she stares at him as if he’s crazy. “What are you talking about Stiles?”

He freezes, his cereal covered spoon now hanging in the air, as he stares at her. Wait, did Lydia honestly not.. he can’t help but splutter out a laugh. “Are you serious Lyds? You didn’t notice?” 

“Notice what?” 

Stiles shakes his head and he can’t stop the smirk from coming to his lips. “God Lyds, I knew you had quite a few and that mister Jackson lookalike probably had his way with you, but I didn’t think he would literally fuck your brains out.”

“He did not look like Jackson.” She scoffs, as if disgusted by the assumption she might have a type. 

“Oh please he looked just like Jackson,” Stiles grinnicks, “a sweet, cutie version though.”

A pointed look gets thrown his way as Lydia deliberately ignores his addition, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she gets two cups out of their cabinet. “His name was Jordan actually and whilst I did in fact get laid last night, which just to remind you is a whole lot more than you can say, I can assure you I still have my brains intact.” 

“Okay ouch. No need to be rude.”

“Stiles.” Lydia moves in front of him, eyebrows sharp and eyes filled with annoyance, as she places the now full pot of coffee between them on the table. “What supernatural community are you on about? Did we meet a pack that I do not remember?”

“Not a pack,” he can’t help but grin as he stares at Lydia’s expectant expression, “a bar.”

\--

Miss Jones was a sweet, sixty something woman. Despite the settling lines in her face, she still had clear dimples when she smiled and her eyes were always filled with a loving gaze. That typical sweet old lady look. She kept her white hair up in a bun, a few loose curls falling from it, and she wore a different colour to work every day. 

She was also a massive old cow. 

“But, did I do something wrong?” Stiles can’t help his frown, this was all coming out of nowhere. He’d been working at the bookstore for six months now and he’d always gotten on well with miss Jones and everyone else. He was good with the kids that came in for storytime on wednesdays, he always covered leftover shifts and he seemed to be the only one that actually read the new releases they advertised. It had seemed like a perfect fit. 

“Well Stiles dear, it’s not as much you it’s just that..well I have a niece coming up and she hasn’t found a job yet and..” Miss Jones uncomfortably shifts her balance, her yellow skirt moving along with her, as she attempts to look apologetic. 

“So you’re firing me to be able to hire your niece?” Stiles’ eyebrows rise.

“I wish you wouldn’t view it as being fired, it’s more-” 

“It’s fine Margaret, I get it now.” Bending over to pick up his bookbag, Stiles shakes his head as he looks at his former employer in her all yellow outfit. She has one of those pity smiles on her face now and if there’s anything Stiles hates it’s a pity smile. He huffs out an annoyed breath, realizing there’s no point in arguing. Miss Jones clearly made up her mind and he is not going to be that guy who begs to keep his job. Even if he does really need it. Fuck. 

He turns and walks to the door, huffing out annoyed breaths on his way. She’s just firing him for her own convenience after he has been nothing but loyal to her and the shop. Frowning, he realizes he’s not really spoken his mind about all this. Taking a last look at the cozy interior of the bookstore, he sends miss Jones his coldest glare at where she’s standing behind the counter. “Yellow on monday makes no sense Margaret, everyone knows mondays are blue.” 

The outside air feels like a slap to his face when he exits. Fuck. How was this happening to him? There’s an angry drum underneath his skin, frustration being carried through his blood. He actually had really needed that job. Sighing, he heads on his walk back home, already dreading the idea of having to go out and find a new place to work that he can combine with still taking his last few uni classes. 

A sinking feeling comes over him as he stares at his shoes sliding over the pavement. He can’t believe he was literally just fired whilst he’d never even done anything wrong. His skin starts to tingle again, but differently. His brain pops into spark mode, screaming out monkshood, and his head snaps up to see the contours of the supernatural bar above him. He lets his eyes scan over the pub once more. It really looks nothing out of the ordinary, it’s a rather small pub with a few terrace tables out front and a chalk board with hastily written menu items on it taking place next to the entrance. 

A grin comes to his lip as he notices the pub’s name for the first time. Moonstruck. God, how obvious could they make it? He stares at the dimly lit window for a brief second, because it had only been two days since his last visit, before deciding fuck it. He could really use a drink. 

The place is pretty empty when he enters, which makes sense with it being just after dinner time on a monday, and whilst he still feels slightly defeated because of the bookstore dumping his ass he takes a moment to really look around the bar. 

It’s..well it’s a bar. A dark wooden floor is lined with several tables and red leather booths take up the right wall. He must really have been quite drunk already last saturday, because holy hell this place is just vibrating with the presence of wolfsbane. He can tell exactly what tap contains laced beer and which one regular and there’s definitely a whole lot more of it in the back. 

Grinning slightly to himself, he walks to the bar and moves to sit down on one of the stools in front of it. There’s a different woman behind in than last time. Her green eyes look at him kindly as she gives him a smile, before whipping her ashy blonde hair over her shoulder. “Hey there, anything I can get you?” 

Stiles lets his eyes glance over her. There’s something familiar about her face, but he can’t quite place it. He swallows at the clear power she radiates. He’d say she’s a werewolf as well and something about her makes him think she would not be afraid to use that to her advantage. When he hasn’t answered, her thick eyebrows move up inquisitively. 

He gives her a small smile. “Get me something so strong I’ll forget that I’m supposed to be crying right now.”

Her brows rise, but in a caring manner, as she steps to the back shelf. “You okay there?”

“Just got fired actually.” He shrugs. “Going to have to step aside when the owner’s niece needs a job, right?” 

“Ouch.” The woman winces, eyes filled with kindness as she pulls out two bottles of liquor and sends him a warm smile. “That either screams whisky or tequila?” 

“If you have a scotch I’ll happily take it.”

“Sure thing,” she sends him a wink before moving back to pour him a glass, “on the rocks?” 

“Yes please.” He smiles at her. “Sorry for dumping my shit on you by the way, though I suppose you’re used to that.” 

She laughs, the sound light and pleasant to his ears as she places the glass in front of him. “Don’t worry about it, it’s a part of my job description.”

“And also, you and your shit are always welcome here.” She smiles like she genuinely means that. Stiles can’t help but match her smile. 

The back door opens behind her and something clicks into place when Cora comes out. It immediately confirms why the other woman was so familiar because it’s obvious the two are related. The high cheekbones and chiseled jaws prove as much. 

Cora recognizes him too, sending him an easy grin. “Stiles was it? Back so soon?”

“Yeah,” he smiles as he motions to his scotch, “drinking the pain away this time.”

“That sounds perfectly healthy.” Cora smirks and passes by her older sister, who is watching their interaction with amused eyes. “Though I won’t discourage you, otherwise we wouldn’t have half our customers.”

Stiles laughs at that and he finds that he is actually feeling a lot better already. Not because of the drink, but because of this place. Like last time, he just feels comfortable here. It’s probably because the bar has a very homey feel to it and to be honest..he does actually enjoy the little wolf references visible everywhere. The movie posters, the paw prints next to the front door and especially what looks to be an actual wolf skull on the wall. The next time Scott comes up to visit, he’ll take him here. 

As he finishes his drink he watches how both the girls are cleaning up some stuff behind the bar. For some reason it makes him realize they don’t even know that he knows yet. That thought makes him chuckle and Cora raises her brows at him.

Deciding to play it smoothly, he scrapes his throat as he motions to the row of taps to his right. “So you guys do your own brews right?” 

“Yeah,” Cora steps forwards and lets her fingers run over the different taps mindlessly, “currently we have some IPA’s, a blonde, a double, a citrus beer and..” 

“A Scottish ale.” The older sister enters the conversation, that friendly smile back on her lips.

Stiles grins, briefly debating whether he should continue to play naive human before realizing it doesn’t really matter anyway. “I’d love to try one. Got any that won’t make me hallucinate? Don’t really feel like revisiting childhood trauma’s tonight.” 

Both their eyes widen briefly, before a smug gleam comes over the Cora’s expression. “I knew he knew, Erica owns me ten bucks.”

The older sister just huffs out a laugh and sends him a grin as she steps forwards, taking the towel she had draped around her shoulder into her hands. “Right kid, you’ve got my interest now. Should I be worried?”

“Nah, just your average human running with wolves.” He extends his hand. “Stiles Stilinski.”

She takes it, her eyes sparkling. “Kiara Hale, the owner, and this is my sister Cora.” 

“He knows.” Cora is still grinning from her apparent victory and looks his way with a mixture of entertainment and new found intrigue. He supposes they should be a little wary of him currently, considering he did just barge in and out them within the first few minutes. 

Kiara comes to lean on the bar, her eyebrows twisting as she lets her eyes flick over him once more. There’s an impressed grin marking her lips though. “That obvious huh?” 

Stiles chuckles. “The movie references are a little on the nose.” 

He can see Cora nodding as if she agrees, whereas Kiara just sputters out a barking laugh. “Oh I like you. Next one’s on the house.”

The next one turns out to be one of the bottled beers they keep in the mini fridge behind the bar. It’s a red ale of some sort and he finds himself enjoying the strong taste of it. They talk a little more about the bar, about Stiles’ university courses and about working with your family. It’s nice. 

When Stiles checks his phone he notices it’s already 00:30 and he has a nine am tomorrow. He groans, quickly excusing himself as he downs the last of his beer and heads out the entrance. The Hale sisters wave him goodbye, amused frowns marking their features, and Stiles walks home with a skip in his step. The anger of being fired having ebbed away a while ago.

\--

Spark training was not something Stiles had ever enjoyed. The evenings of what was supposed to be his epic senior year spent in the back of Deaton’s office, where the hot afternoon sun had let all the lovely smells of animal fur and dog shit mellow into the air, as Deaton cryptically handed him a glass vial of whatever and forced Stiles to stare at it until something happened. 

Sometimes nothing happened. Sometimes he managed to identify it within a second. Sometimes he made it move. Sometimes the vial exploded. Sometimes it turned out Deaton had just given him kitchen salt or chili flakes. It had been the true highlight of his youth.

Those ruined teenage nights were however nothing compared to his now  _ skype _ spark training. If he thought Deaton had been a man of few words in person, these enjoyable tuesday night skype calls sure proved him wrong. Whilst Stiles knew that it was important to keep on training and exercising, he also found the calls pointless sometimes. He’d left the supernatural life behind him, mostly, and whilst he still always carried some mountain ash around (a larger vial in his left sock and a smaller vial in his leather bracelet) - he hoped he wouldn’t have to use it again any time soon.

He groans as he pushes forwards his shopping trolley, wanting to get himself a couple of snacks for during his training tonight. To be fair, he was also kind of excited for tonight. Deaton had said they could try to push the boundaries of his magic a little more, now that he’d advanced at herbology, and see if his power maybe holds some untapped potential somewhere else.

The bags of marshmallows and caramel toffee’s are staring him down in the tiny 7/11 aisle and already knowing he’s not going to win here, he loads them into his cart. Pushing forwards, he suddenly notices there’s someone standing behind him.

Despite what she might tell you, Stiles did not scream at the sudden appearance of Cora. The brunette pretends to look stoic, but he can see the corners of her lips rising. “Are you stalking me now Stiles?” 

“Technically, I’d say you’re stalking me. You’re the one who can track my scent.”

Cora releases a breath that Stiles thinks could be a laugh and she shakes her head before sending him a small smirk. “You’re a weird one, Stilinski. What are you doing on friday?” 

They walk forwards through the aisle together and Stiles feels his brows rise at her question. Why was she asking him about his plans? “Umh, a friend is coming up to visit.”

“Cool,” Cora nods as she grabs a bag of cheese onion crisps and places them in her basket, “if you two feel like it you could come to our half moon party.”

“Half moon party?” 

Cora rolls her eyes as if his question is of the greatest annoyance. “We can’t exactly do a full moon party without the claws coming out, but we still want to give small packs a chance to feel a part of it.” 

That’s really nice actually. He hadn’t really realized that the bar could actually mean a lot to supernaturals in order to connect and he finds himself smiling at the thought of lone wolves going there for a drink and not feeling as alone anymore. Lone wolves like Scotty. “Yeah, I think we’ll swing by.”

“Cool. See you then.” She punches his arm as a goodbye and he winces at the impact. Yep, that confirms his suspicion: that girl was definitely a wolf. 

As he’s settling in on the couch, laptop placed on his knees and his notebook out, Lydia walks into the apartment carrying two take out boxes. Without a word she hands him one, the heat of it almost burning his fingers, and she sits down next to him. “You’re meeting Deaton right? I have a couple of things I want to ask him.”

Glancing over at Lydia, he notices the uncertainty she’s trying to hide. She doesn’t like to talk about her own supernatural confliction that much but he knows she’s still struggling with it sometimes, considering there’s not exactly a training program for banshee’s out there. Hell, the only other banshee they ever met was Meredith and that hadn’t exactly been someone they felt comfortable asking for advice. 

He smiles at Lydia, deciding not to press further. “Sure, I can leave him on skype for you after I’m done.”

“Thanks Stiles.” She sighs as she opens up her take-out box. Stiles decides to follow her example and they eat the sticky rice and chicken mixture as they chat about life. Stiles still hasn’t found a new job, even though he’s applied to a couple of other book shops and even a Starbucks - yes, he’s that desperate. Lydia’s interning is still going well, even if she’s often tired when she comes home, and their conversation gets abruptly cut short when the familiar tune of an incoming skype call fills up the room.

Lydia smiles as she excuses herself and Stiles sighs as he mentally prepares for facing Deaton. Who he really doesn’t like all that much, now that he thinks about it.

\--

Moving to Sacramento had changed things. He didn’t see his dad as often, didn’t speak to his old friends as much as he maybe should, but there was one thing that would never change. Scott being his best friend.

Yes, their friendship had changed. With Stiles studying and working and Scott managing the pack there was not a lot of time left over to stuff themselves with greasy pizza and play COD online until the sun rises. But they were absolutely still best friends, which is why Stiles is bouncing up and down behind the wheel as he drives to go pick Scott up from the train station.

Scott came up to visit occasionally, but it was mostly Stiles going back home when they saw each other. Not that Stiles minded. Train tickets and gas were expensive and Scott was still studying. Also, he drove down to see dad anyway so it always lined up nicely. However, having Scott here this weekend was going to be awesome. Especially because they were going to go to a werewolf party tonight. 

A werewolf party. Just the sound of it is cool.

Scott seemed to think so too, as the first words out of his mouth after they jumped on each other were; “We’re going to a wolf party? In a wolf bar?” 

“Yep,” Stiles laughs, he still can’t really believe this is a real thing himself, “I got us personally invited.” 

“Holy shit bro, I’m so excited.” Scott laughs effortlessly as he climbs into the jeep’s passenger seat, dumping his overnight bag on the back seat in a fluid movement. 

“Yeah, we’re going to have dinner with Lyds first though.” Making sure there’s no one behind him, Stiles pulls into reverse and heads onto the road leading towards their apartment.

“Of course,” Scott grins widely, “I haven’t seen Lydia in forever. Is she making her pizza thing?” 

Stiles shrugs, not too sure of what Lydia is cooking. Scott just smiles in response and Stiles finds it to be contagious. Having his best buddy around always plasters a pleased smile to his lips. He’d even ordered the new call of duty for them to play tonight. He was going to make this sleepover as similar as the ones they had when they were fifteen as he could. 

Twenty minutes later they’re walking into the apartment and Stiles smiles at the somewhat awkward hug Scott and Lydia share. The two of them had never grown quite as close as the rest of them, which Stiles could understand. Whilst he would defend Scott to his deathbed, his buddy wasn’t exactly the brightest and therefore conversations between Lydia and Scott never really got past the small talk level.

Especially after Allison died. The only reason Lydia and Scott had become friends in the first place had been because of Ally and with her passing the two just grew apart. His throat feels tight just from thinking about her again and he quickly wanders into the kitchen to get them something to drink before either of them notice.

Dinner was pleasant and whilst Lydia definitely wanted to go back to Moonstruck some time, never having seen the place with sober eyes before, she skipped out tonight. Stiles guesses she probably wants to give them some time to catch up alone and he smiles, hugging her tightly before they leave. 

A few people stand outside smoking when they arrive at Moonstruck. Stiles frowns as he realizes they’re all dressed up. Was this a themed party? Cora hadn’t even told him. Shit, he loves to dress up. The fact he missed a genuine opportunity to do so makes him sad. Going off the red horns and wings several people seem to be wearing, the theme is something to do with devils and angles. Scott is pumping with excitement next to him, obviously thrilled at the fact he is going to be able to just order a drink and actually get drunk. It’s cute.

There’s a dark skinned man at the door, letting his eyes flick over them before visibly sniffing Scott. Right, it’s probably a closed night tonight seeing as it’s some sort of moon party. He attempts an innocent smile at the doorman, just a harmless human over here, and whilst the man doesn’t exactly look impressed he does open the door for them. 

It’s packed inside, all the tables having been cleared in favour of creating a busy dancefloor. People are dancing and laughing and Stiles can feel himself becoming excited because damn does this look like a good time. He smirks as he sees a wolfed out couple grind against each other in the corner. Yes, so that door policy is probably a good idea. They make a beeline for the bar, moving through the crowd, and Stiles can feel himself freezing when he sees hottie Derek behind the bar.

Damn, the guy looks good. Which is unfair because dressed in a too tight white henley with a plastic fluffy halo balanced on top of his head he should look ridiculous. Stiles can’t help his eyes lingering appreciatively on the broad biceps the tight shirt reveals. Derek’s head snaps up as they get closer and Stiles goes for a friendly wave, but apparently Derek’s scowl is permanently glued to his face. In fact, he looks a little more annoyed at seeing Stiles. 

Right, he’s heard he’s easy to hate before, but that was coming from Jackson. Their friendship had been based on hating each other. It makes no sense for Derek to already hate him. All he did was accidentally run into him and Stiles is pretty sure the guy is a werewolf as well, so he should in no way be complaining about that.

Thankfully Derek isn’t alone behind the bar and Kiara does smile widely as she spots him. “Stiles! You made it!” 

“Hi Kiara,” Stiles smiles, pointedly ignoring Derek, “this is my buddy Scott. He’s dying to try one of your beers.” 

“Nice to meet you, Scott. Let’s take care of that then, shall we?” Kiara’s eyes get that kind gleam over them as she taps them both a beer. From different taps of course.

Scott is a lucky bastard as always and manages to claim the last free barstool, leaving Stiles to wurm his way in between Scott and a thankfully skinny girl in order to be able to chat with Kiara. He really likes Kiara, he’s decided. She has a really pleasant sweetness about her. She’s dressed as an angel tonight as well, wearing a cute flowy white summer dress and big golden earrings, and in contrast to Derek she does actually look the part. Kiara smiles widely as she places two foamy beers in front of them.

Before Stiles can actually go and enjoy his, he gets punched on his arm. Which..ouch. “What the fuck?” 

He yelps, turning around to see Erica glaring at him. “Yes, what the fuck Batman. Why did you have me play human last time?” 

A snort falls from his lips. Right. He supposes that was kind of funny. “Come on Erica, what was I supposed to do? Oh hey I’m not sure if this place is a werewolf joint, but in case it isn’t I am a lunatic who believes in werewolves.” 

“Okay. Fair point.” Her red lips turn up into her familiar smirk. Erica had gone with the devil outfit, wearing a tight red dress that hugs her curves very nicely and with two gold horns peeking out between her curls. 

Her eyes turn judgemental as she clearly notices his lack of devilish attire. She purses her lips. “And then you don’t even come dressed up. Disrespectful.” 

“Cora didn’t tell me!” He all but sputters out and Erica snorts at his response, shaking her head at him. He sticks out his tongue at her. Bitch. 

“Yeah, we didn’t know.” Scott joins in and yes at least he could always count on Scotty to defend him. Scott extends his hand to Erica as he smiles. “I’m Scott by the way. Stiles’ alpha.” 

Why Scott felt the need to clarify he was Stiles’ alpha, Stiles doesn’t know. Maybe being around so many wolves is making him feel territorial? 

For some reason the comment made Derek look up from his work, now staring intently at Stiles, and Stiles can’t help but frown. Especially when the eye contact makes his body tighten, his spark fluttering inside his chest. He can feel its magic buzzing through his forearms as he can’t find himself to look away from Derek’s eyes. Derek doesn’t seem to be looking away either.

They’re still staring at each other when Erica interrupts. “I didn’t know you were in a pack Stiles. Are they all as cute as you two? You can bring more of them over if that’s the case.” 

“Yes, we should bring the pack here Stiles!” Scott beams at the idea and Stiles finds himself smiling. That would be nice. Derek’s gone back to ignoring him now, even walking away from behind the bar, and Stiles feels strangely rejected at the action. Well, whatever.

The girl next to him leaves and Stiles is quick as he jumps onto her stool. Clincking his glass against that of Scott, they finally start to enjoy their drinks. Scott sighs contently at the first sip. 

“It’s so cool I can drink this in an actual bar and not have to rely on the stash Stiles makes for me.” Scott smiles widely at Kiara, clearly genuinely appreciative. 

“Right,” Stiles grins as he rolls his eyes, “so you won’t be taking home the two crates I’ve got lined up for you?” 

Scott immediately turns towards him, eyes wide with a genuine apologetic look. “No, no Stiles. This still has nothing on yours, believe me.” 

“Not that this one is bad!” Scott now turns back towards Kiara apologetically and Stiles can’t help his snort. God, Scott is such a dork. 

Kiara doesn’t seem to care about the comparison much at all, instead her eyes are fixed on Stiles with interest as she folds her arms over each other. “You do your own brews?” 

“Sometimes.” Stiles shrugs, not sure if he’s comfortable with this sudden attention on him.

“They’re amazing.” Scott says excitedly, that lopsided grin marking his face. “He does this fruity IPA thing which is honestly the best beer I’ve ever had. Even from before I was bitten. I mean it’s probably because he’s a spark and stuff but I can never even taste the wolfsbane.” 

“You’re a spark?” Kiara’s eyebrows rise.

Erica frowns from next to her, joining in on the conversation. “What’s a spark?” 

“No one is sure exactly,” Stiles can feel his cheeks reddening at so many eyes on him, “but it means I can control the magic in mountain ash and wolfsbane and such.”

“It’s an old type of emissary magic.” Kiara explains to Erica, keeping her eyes fixated on Stiles. Stiles’ eyebrows rise, he hadn’t even known that, fucking Deaton. 

“Oh my god that is perfect.” Erica all but gushes as she abandons the bowl of limes she was cutting into quarters. “Stiles can replace Hayden then!” 

Stiles can feel his brows furrowing, not too sure what this is about. Erica is positively beaming behind the bar, grinning widely, and Kiara just flicks her eyes over him with interest before she too smiles. “Any chance you could come in Monday afternoon Stiles?”

“Umh, sure?” 

“Perfect.” Kiara grins, moving back to help other customers. “Swing by anytime after three.” 

He has no idea what this is about, but with the pleasantly large grin Erica is sporting he’s sure it’s not bad news. Scott is smiling too, happily taking sips from his beer, and Stiles shrugs as they move towards the dancefloor. 

Moving through the mass of people, Stiles can’t help but smile at the fact they’re at a supernatural party. He hadn’t known those were a thing. Most of the people did dress up as well, a dark haired woman next to him even wearing a red catsuit, and he finds the dancefloor to be a pleasant mixture of slightly sweaty people swinging their hips to seventies pop. Scott looks a little out of place between them, awkwardly shuffling his feet back and forth, and Stiles grins. Whilst Scott was his best friend, he’d never been his best friend to go out with. The guy just didn’t know what to do on a dance floor.

It was always Lydia that dragged Stiles along to fancy clubs just outside of town, usually with Danny and Jackson in tow. He smiles as he thinks back on the highschool memories and realizes he hasn’t texted Danny in ages. He should. It’d be nice to catch up. 

But now he just has two left feet Scott. The situation becomes even more funny when there’s a wolf interested in Scott, who visibly panics at the attention and quickly waves his hand into her face to show off his engagement ring. Because yeah, Scott and Kira were engaged now and Stiles couldn’t be happier about it. He was going to be a best man, fuck yes.

Stiles takes another sip from his beer, grinning when he sees Cora approach with her tray of shots, and he happily takes a blue one off it. Cora smirks, looking around, before sneaking one off herself. Stiles laughs, seems like the no alcohol policy isn’t that strict around here. She squeezes his butt as she walks on to talk to Scott and Stiles absolutely didn’t yelp. No matter what she tells you. 

Stiles is enjoying himself dancing, eyes drifting back and forth around the bar, but no one really catches his eye. Well except Derek of course, who’s now busy tapping pints behind the bar, the halo still looking silly on his stupidly attractive head. God, why were the hot ones always assholes? They continue dancing for a while, until there is suddenly a somewhat attractive guy in front of him. Stiles smirks as he sees the subtle flaring of nostrils, werewolves always thought they were so slick when they did that. The guy grins, showing off a line of straight teeth, and Stiles grins back. 

“I’m Brett,” the guy yells over the music, inching closer towards Stiles. 

“Stiles.” he winks and allows the wolf to come closer. They dance together for a bit and Stiles finds himself enjoying the attention. Then Brett starts moving his body closely alongside Stiles’ and the physical touch sours Stiles’ mood for some reason. His spark protests inside his chest. Which is usually not a good sign. He grimaces, turning around to see a predatory smirk on Brett’s face. Also not a good sign. 

Stiles attempts to move away, wanting to excuse himself, when suddenly two hands are on his hips with quite a harsh pressure. Stiles releases a futile attempt at a laugh and tries to wiggle out of the werewolf’s hands. Instead, the grip on his hips just increases and Stiles yelps because that actually hurts a little. He pushes back a little bit more roughly this time, but Brett doesn’t seem to take the hint. Stiles is getting annoyed now, he doesn’t know who this guy thinks he is, but Stiles isn’t just some human he can toy around with. Using a bit more force, he manages to get one of the wolf’s hands off and luckily Scott tuned in on the situation. His best friend steps between them, using a bit more strength than necessary to push Brett off.

“Dude, he’s not interested.” 

“Sorry,” Brett raises his hands innocently, a scowl now marking his face, “didn’t know the bitch was already taken.”

Excuse him? Stiles splutters out a breath, shaking his head, and as he goes to tell snotty faced Brett just what he thinks of him he sees Brett is already being pulled away by a pair of broad arms. Stiles swallows as he watches Derek drag the other wolf to the exit, where the dark skinned man takes over and kicks Brett out. 

His eyes meet Derek’s from across the room and for a second Stiles can feel that pull again, but Derek just scowls his way before walking back towards the bar. Jesus, what did Stiles ever do to the guy? 

Scott frowns too next to him and sends Stiles a shrug. Right, he should at least be thankful Brett is out of his hair now. They dance for a bit longer, Stiles attempting not to laugh at the ridiculous moves Scott is throwing out there, and he’s genuinely having a good time. 

They finish their third round of beers an hour later and head out a bit earlier than Stiles would have thought, but he doesn’t really mind. They have a couple of old fashioned rounds of COD waiting for them at home. Kiara sends him a wave and a knowing smile as they leave and Stiles smiles, deciding that despite some snotty faced and permanently scowling werewolves he does really like this place.

\--

Stiles starts to feel a little pathetic as he leaves his apartment for the third time this week to head over to Moonstruck. Not the alcoholic kind of pathetic, but the ‘wow I really don’t have a life’ kind of pathetic. But at least this time Kiara actually asked him there. So you know, he has a legitimate excuse to be there.

The sun is a pleasant warmth on his cheeks and he shrugs off his jean jacket, realizing it was warmer out than he’d expected. The red building pops up in the corner of his eye and he finds himself smiling at the sight of it. He wasn’t too sure why Kiara wanted to meet up with him, but it probably had to do with some tasting or human advice or something. 

She smiles widely when he comes in, hurrying from behind the bar to give him a hug. The black see through kimono she’s wearing flows behind her and Stiles smiles as he returns her embrace. Her hair is hanging loosely next to her face, held together by a purple scarf she’s tied in there. “Stiles, glad you could make it.” 

“Of course, I don’t have anything better to do currently.” 

Kiara chuckles as she heads to the entrance and locks the door. Turning around, she motions to the staff only door behind the bar. “Come, I’ll show you.” 

She was going to show him their brewery? Cool. Excited he follows her through a small hallway, which holds some supplies and the staff toilet, into a large backroom labeled greenhouse. His eyes widen when he finds it to be an actual greenhouse. Well, sort of.

It’s an open space with sunshine peeking through the windows in the ceiling and many plants hanging on the walls. The room is buzzing with magic and Stiles is immediately drawn to the glass boxes that take centre stage. He quickly recognizes the purple flowers inside as different types of wolfsbane and even one filled with mistletoe. He wouldn’t put mistletoe in a drink himself, but he supposes it can have use in other ways. Interested, he walks around the boxes and reads their labels - which contain the race, properties and the date they were planted. Even if his spark is already telling him what types they are, it’s fun to see how much work has gone into this system. 

Kiara is grinning from her position against the wall when he looks back at her and he ducks his head, having forgotten she probably had a purpose with this. “It’s really cool Kiara, thanks for showing me.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty proud of it.” She steps in line next to him and points to the monkshood batch. “We tend to use this one most as it has the most effect, but Hayden had been experimenting with different races as well.” 

“Smart. Different races have different qualities. Monkshood does the best on lowering your healing ability but it does have quite a present taste, I uh usually use this one,” he points to the smaller miniature greenhouse on the far end, “and then line it with some monkshood to give a kick. But you know, some people like a strong taste. Reminds them of actual alcohol.” 

When he turns Kiara is studying him thoughtfully, her green eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “You really know your stuff huh?” 

He shrugs as he feels his cheeks heat up. “Well, you know, it’s kind of what I do? Like, wolfsbane is pretty standard spark territory.” 

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met a spark before.” She winks as she walks over to the line of big tubs on the other end of the room. Stiles can sense that they’re the beer mixtures and he smiles at seeing the process. It looks pretty time consuming to be honest, growing the plants themselves and then only using one vat per batch. Why not make more if you’re at it?

“So these are the beers we’re doing currently. The ale is a pain in the ass.” 

Stiles huffs out a laugh. “I can imagine yeah. It has to ferment for quite a bit right?” 

“So long.” Kiara glares at the ale’s vat as if she wants to punch it for not being quicker. Stiles grins. 

They walk on, following the tubes from the vats, into a second smaller room where the beers get pumped into tubes in order to be linked up to taps inside the actual bar. Stiles is smiling through the whole tour. Kiara’s obviously so excited and proud about it all, it’s almost addictive. The more Stiles thinks about it, he realizes how cool it is that Kiara started this place. It’s ballsy too, but mostly really really cool. 

She smiles at him, somehow guessing his line of thought. “I’ve always worked at bars, I love the industry. But I always had to sneak my own alcohol in. A true pain in my ass, so I figured why don’t we deserve a place to drink? Outside of our own homes I mean. A place to get drunk where you don’t have to sneak wolfsbane inside. I didn’t really expect it to pick up this much, but here we are.” 

“I think it’s really cool Kiara.” Stiles smiles when she blushes at his compliment. 

“Thanks Stiles.” Her eyes are kind, genuine bashfulness visible inside them, before she is back to her wide smile and motions to the room. “So, what do you think?” 

“Like I said, really fucking cool. Thanks for letting me see.” 

Kiara’s brows furrow and damn does that make her look like Cora. She snickers then. “Yes, very kind of you but you said that already, Stiles. I mean what do you say?” 

Now it’s his turn to frown. “To..what?” 

“Really?” She’s grinning now, shaking her head in an almost mocking movement. “I’m offering you a job, Stiles.” 

Wait, what? He sputters out a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m kidding.” Kiara rolls her eyes, clearly also a family feature. “Of course I’m serious. I told you Hayden left right? We need someone to work on the brews as well as help out on busy nights. If you’re not interested that’s fine, but I thought you were looking for a job?” 

“I am! I am, yeah!” Stiles can’t really believe his ears. Not only is Kiara being super nice and offering him a place to work, said place to work actually ties into his abilities. He can actually make money with being a spark. Damn, the first time that has truly done something positive for him. 

Kiara’s staring at him expectantly, arms folded over each other, but a smirk marks her lips as she cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yes! I mean, sorry fuck I didn’t expect this, but yeah totally. I’m in. If you still want me to of course, but yes. Me. All the way in. In the bar I mean.” 

If his babbling threw Kiara off, she didn’t show it. Instead she just laughs, shaking her head, as she guides them back to the front. “I think you’ll be a fine addition.”

\--

Their living room is lit up by the artificial white light of Lydia’s laptop as he walks in. He rolls his eyes at the sight and he pointedly flicks on the lightswitch. “I’ve told you it’s bad for your eyes to have that screen as your only light source.”

“Please, as if you don’t do it all the time.” Lydia rolls her eyes, shifting on the couch as she goes to grab her glass of merlot from the coffee table. “Where have you been?” 

“At Moonstruck actually.” He can’t help his pleased smile. He had found a job, a job that will actually be interesting. Thank fuck that Starbucks hadn’t replied to his resume yet. 

Lydia purses her lips as she shoots him an unimpressed look. “Really Stiles? How much time are you going to spend at that bar? It’s becoming a little sad you know.”

Snickering, he lets himself fall next to her on the couch and kicks off his shoes. Lydia scrunches her nose and Stiles can’t help his smirk as he turns to her judgemental expression. “Actually, I’m probably going to be spending even more time there. They offered me a job.” 

“Really?” That piques Lydia’s interest as she shuts her laptop and places it next to some of her papers on the coffee table. “As what?” 

“As..well mostly as the wolfsbane person but I think she wants me to take some bar shifts as well.” 

“In the werewolf bar?” Lydia’s still frowning and Stiles now is too. Why is she not excited? He found a way to pay rent again as well as develop his sparky skills. Seems like a win win situation to him.

She catches his confusion and sighs, moving to adjust her position on the couch. Her eyes turn soft as she looks at him. “It’s not that I’m not happy for you Stiles, but..are you sure this is a good idea?” 

She moves her hand onto his upper leg, where his largest scar is positioned and ah, that’s what she means. Moving here had been their escape, their attempt at just being regular humans again. Going to work at Moonstruck was literally throwing himself, and Lydia by extension, back into the supernatural life. A grimace falls to his lips as he grabs Lydia’s hand and notices the worry in her eyes. Fuck, he feels like a bit of a dick now. 

“I’m sorry for not involving you Lyds, I should have asked. If you’re really not comfortable, I’ll call Kiara and turn down the job anyway.” 

“You don’t have to go that far,” she rolls her eyes, back to her usual confident facade, “I just want to make sure you do realize this might add some shit back into our lives.”

“I know,” Stiles sighs as he looks at her, “but I think that our little bubble would have been broken sometime soon anyway. We can’t change what we are, even if we pass as humans, and I don’t know. I think these people can be trusted.” 

All Lydia does is send him a small smile. “Let’s hope they can be.”

\---

Apparently there was a third Hale sister. Laura. He’d only spoken to her on the phone and to be honest, she sounded a lot scarier than the others. Who already scared him. This family must have some power women genes.

Laura was the finance lady and she’d emailed him some forms to fill in as well as his contract. It was just a twenty four hour contract, so two full days and one night, which was perfect. Laura told him that if he worked more than that, it wouldn’t be much of an issue but this way he’d at least get paid for twenty four hours a week. 

And the pay..was pretty damn nice. It wasn’t amazing or anything, but it was more than he’d earned at the bookstore and he grins as he mentally flips off miss Jones and her stupid wrong judgement of colours. 

Half an hour of filling in his personal details and two signatures later, he’s officially an employee of Moonstruck. It feels genuinely nice, as if he’s becoming a part of something big. Scott was hella excited about it too, already asking about the employee discount and Stiles rolls his eyes as he texts back that Scott would actually have to come up to visit more if he wanted to make use of it. 

Don’t judge him, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of emotional blackmail if it’s positive for the friendship as a whole.

Hayden, the girl he’s going to be taking over from, is meeting him at the greenhouse later today to show him the ropes. He’s curious about her, wondering if she’s just a human or a druid maybe. At least he’d get to ask a bit more about the whole process and the recipes. Oh he was so excited for the recipes. He had his own from years of brewing for the pack, but they were for smaller batches, so he was curious to see what the other girl had come up with. 

Yeah, so she was different than he expected. The short, dark haired girl almost seemed a little grumpy as she explained what each batch was and how she took care of it. She turned out to just be human, but had rolled into the werewolf life through her highschool sweetheart. As glad as Stiles was that someone was showing him how it worked, he found the afternoon less helpful than he expected. Especially when Hayden left after only an hour, wishing him good luck on her way out.

Right. Looks like he’ll have to get to know it himself then. He walks towards the dusty desk in the right off corner, clearing some of the papers away before sitting down and opening up the binder Hayden had given him. Stiles lets his eyes scan over the different recipes and ingredients. It’s fascinating to see the combinations and the timing. He grabs out his notebook and starts jotting down things that don’t make sense to him. Especially how often the recipes used Aconitum karafutense, which was a very bitter type of wolfsbane. It had a burn to it, which is why you could maybe use it in a vodka, but not in a beer.. 

The bar didn’t produce their own strong liquors, instead ordering them from a big pack down in Mexico, and Stiles wondered if he should ask Kiara if he could try to make some gin or vodka. Maybe that could help cut down on costs. And it would also just be really cool. The pack had always liked his gin at least. 

Stiles had had his own tiny supply of wolfsbane back home, just regular monkshood, and any other types he’d gotten through Deaton. It was so cool to be in a room literally designed to grow wolfsbane. And the room was so nice too, he felt like he was in Harry Potter - in professor Sprout’s greenhouse. A smile comes to his lips as he realizes this is going to be his workplace. He’s going to get to experiment as much as he likes and get paid for it as well. Fuck yes.

It must be around an hour later when a loud tud is hearable behind him. He can’t help it, he screams, dropping the binder onto the floor, as he stares with wide eyes at where Derek is suddenly standing in the room.

Derek doesn’t look to be any less surprised to see him here and the other guy’s eyebrows turn into that frown again. “What are you doing here?” 

“Umh,” Stiles feels slightly put on the spot, apparently Kiara hadn’t told Derek he’d be working here, and he smiles awkwardly as he shrugs, “I work here now, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.” Derek is looking at him with disbelief. “My sister hired you?” 

“Kiara’s your sister?” Stiles feels his eyes widen, he hadn’t known that, and Derek just looks at him as if he’s stupid before rolling his eyes. And yes, seeing that he does feel a little stupid. That’s the exact same eye roll both Hale sisters had. 

“What did you think she was?” Derek’s eyes turn expectant, before he seemingly decides it’s not worth the effort and folds his arms over each other. “Nevermind. She hired you?” 

“Umh yes, I’m your new Hayden.” Stiles is getting slightly annoyed now. He doesn’t know what he ever did to Derek, but the guy hasn’t been very welcoming or even..nice so far. Which is worrying considering they’d be working together on a regular basis from now on.

“Right,” Derek’s eyes flick over him once more and he shakes his head, “let’s hope you're less annoying than she was. Though I don’t have much hope.” 

Before Stiles can even react, Derek’s already turned back around. Stiles mutters dickhead under his breath as he watches Derek leave, knowing the other guy will be able to hear it. He doesn’t know what that dude’s problem is, but he’s not keen for taking any more of this shit.


	2. the place of improvement

Well Fuck. Derek feels like punching himself in the face. Hard. But he knows he’d heal from it anyway, so it wouldn’t be of much use. 

He knows he’s never been much of a social butterfly. Laura told him often enough. But this..Stiles, god it’s like the guy automatically turns him into a grade A douchebag. Somehow everything he says to the other man turns into an insult. He’d meant the annoying comment as a joke, genuinely, but he too had heard that it just came out as petty and mean. Should he go back and apologize?

Probably not the best idea, if the bitter scent of anger coming from Stiles was anything to judge by. Walking through the pub’s doors, Derek inhales the outside air in an attempt to calm himself down. He just hadn’t expected Stiles to be there, all he’d wanted was to ask Kiara something, and then he found out his sister hired the guy.

He knows just why she did it though. Yes, he knew she genuinely needed a human with wolfsbane brewing experience to replace Hayden and yes those weren’t exactly easy to come around, but still..she knows how he feels about Stiles. All three his sisters knew. It was all they could talk about these days, their voices teasing as they asked him about his newfound crush.

Derek himself wouldn’t necessarily call it a crush. It was more of an..interest. There was something about Stiles, the way he smelled and the way he had been so quick to basically befriend Derek’s entire pack. It was intriguing. 

As soon as he’d gotten a whiff of the scent that first night, he’d already wanted to know who it belonged to. It was enthralling to his wolf, making him want to get closer. It was smoky, reminding Derek of whisky and caramelized apples, layered with a spike of pine needles and forest. His wolf had urged him to track it, find the person who smelled that nice, when said person suddenly ran into him, drowning his brand new henley with gin and tonic. 

And fuck. Of course the guy had to be attractive, with those big auburn eyes and those dark moles contrasting against pale skin. Derek hadn’t known what to do with himself as the guy cursed underneath his breath. The moment their eyes met felt enthralling, but the scent of annoyance had been strong in the air, and all Derek could do was panic and get away to the safety of the bar. Even if he wasn’t supposed to be working that night.

Then Erica had gone up and talked to the guy, an irrational feeling of wrong settling in Derek’s stomach as he saw the two of them laughing and touching each other. It had made his wolf angry for some reason and all he could do was glare as he went to break it up. 

Pathetic. Shaking his head, he crosses the street as he decides to head to Boyd’s place. Erica is usually out on wednesdays and Derek didn’t feel like facing any of his sisters right now. 

Boyd doesn’t even faze as he opens the door to a grumpy Derek, just stepping aside to let him in. Derek appreciates it and kicks off his shoes before placing them underneath the coat rack and walking into Boyd’s living room. Smells of crab and cooked tomatoes fill the air and Derek can feel his stomach grumbling in reaction. 

Boyd clearly heard that as he grins slightly, moving towards the fridge to get them both a beer, and motions for Derek to sit down. “You staying for dinner? It’s just leftovers, but Erica’s out till nine so they're all ours.”

“Yes please.” Derek sighs, allowing himself to fall against the back of the couch. Slight regret fills up his chest as he replays the events in the greenhouse. He’s an idiot. He doesn’t know why he’s acting this way around Stiles. 

He just hasn’t been interested in someone like this in a long time. He hasn’t made a friend that wasn’t pack for a long time. Maybe he’s genuinely forgotten how to be nice. Which is..a worrisome thought.

Boyd says nothing as he places two full plates of crab lasagna in front of them and they eat their meal as they watch a baseball game on Boyd’s television. The moment makes him calm down, settling the angry wolf inside his chest, and he smiles slightly as he realizes this is why he loves Boyd. Boyd can just be. Without talking, without judgement. Allowing Derek to just be. 

After a while they start to chat about work. Their actual work, because neither of them work at the bar full time. They mostly do it as a service to Kiara whenever she’s short on staff. Which is basically all the time, considering. Boyd works as a security guard for multiple businesses and Derek works at the local mechanic. Apparently Boyd caught a witch trying to break in into one of the companies today and the girl hadn’t realized he was a werewolf when she attempted to knock him out, resulting in her draining her own magic and passing out herself. Derek smirks at the story, it sounded like quite a funny situation to explain to the police.

It’s about half an hour later when they hear the front door open and Erica comes barging in. She grins widely at spotting him on her couch and immediately makes a jump onto his lap. Derek grunts at the impact, but allows Erica to sit up and squeeze his cheeks. Her voice is teasing when she speaks. “Oh to what do we owe a visit from grumpy over here?” 

“Derek found out Kiara hired Stiles.” 

Derek deadpans Boyd’s way, apparently privacy meant nothing in this house, and his friend just shrugs in reply as he takes a sip from his beer. Erica positively cackles on top of him, pinching his cheek even harder, and Derek rolls his eyes in annoyance as he pushes her off the couch. 

Erica just continues on laughing, not having been fazed by his sour moods in years, and looks his way with a way too pleased smirk as she scrambles back up. “Ah and Derek really liked that? Or really hated that? Which I will not approve of by the way, Stiles is a treasure.” 

“You’ve literally met the guy twice.” Derek can’t help his sour tone, it’s the truth.

Erica rolls her eyes. “Yes and that was enough for me to see he is hilarious. I mean I get it Derek. You haven’t boned someone in the last year and Stiles is very boneable. I’d do him.” 

“Thanks for that visual, Erica.” Derek deadpans, trying to ignore the possessive growl his wolf pushed through his body. Boyd just chuckles next to him, seemingly unbothered by the comment. Derek sighs, hiding his face in his hands. “God, I just know Kiara hired him to try to set me up and I hate it.” 

Erica’s look turns more serious then, pursing her lips as she goes to sit down calmly. “Well no. Stiles is a spark. He literally knows everything about wolfsbane. That you happen to have this huge embarrassing boner for him is just a bonus.” 

“Stiles is a spark?” Derek feels his brows furrow. He hadn’t known that. He vaguely remembers learning about sparks from his mother. Something about them coming from the emissary lineage and their abilities were plant based. Or something like that at least, he doesn’t fully remember. He should read up on it.

“Yeah, I think he was a sort of emissary to his pack as well before he moved here.” Erica shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

But it is a big deal. Derek’s wolf found it to be a big deal. It was having the same reaction to this news as it had to the alpha Stiles took to Moonstruck the other day. As when that beta was touching and dancing with Stiles. This inherent feeling of..wrong. God, he hates that his wolf is suddenly so active. If it was clear about what it wanted Derek wouldn’t mind as much, but all his wolf is giving him are these random confusing feelings.

Feelings about Stiles.

\--

Derek swears as he runs down the pavement, using his jacket as a makeshift umbrella to try and not get soaked in the splattering rain he’s somehow been caught in. Thank god Boyd’s apartment isn’t far from his loft.

He sighs when he opens the door, an invisible weight falling off his shoulders, and he throws his jacket over the stairs bannister as he walks onto the hideous red and blue patterned carpet in his apartment. The hideously drawn swirls stare back up at him almost mockingly. God, he really wanted to get rid of it, but he hadn’t found the time yet. 

He’d only decided to move out of his parents house three months ago. Along with his older sisters. With him being twentyseven, Kiara twentynine and Laura having hit thirty (including that quarter life crisis), they figured it might be time. 

It is different for wolves he supposes. Not moving out of your parents house isn’t about not being able to stand on your own feet, it’s about not being able to leave the pack. All four of them had wanted to stay for as long as they could, spending their days basking in the happy feeling of pack and the warm smells of dad’s home cooking, but with Laura now working as an attorney in a big law firm, she needed to be closer to the city. As did Kiara, when she opened her pub. Derek had actually been fine workwise, but there was no way in hell he was going to live with just Cora and his teenage cousin Lucas around.

Despite finding his sisters the most annoying people on this earth, he did still want to be near them. It had been hard for his wolf to suddenly not have pack around him constantly and he was thankful that all three of them managed to get an apartment in the same complex. He has a loft on the upper floor, whereas Kiara and Laura are a couple of floors down. It’s nice.

He frowns as the scent of cheap instant noodles fills up his nose and he sighs at where Laura sits on his couch eating a bowl of them. “How many times have I told you those are bad for you?” 

His sister releases an annoyed groan, sending him a sharp look from over her shoulder. “And how many times have I told you I don’t care?” 

Derek grits his teeth, trying not to get too annoyed, but damn Laura was such a fucking brat. He scowls. “What are you even doing here? Go back to your own place.”

“My electricity's out.” She gestures towards his television as an explanation. 

Sighing, he decides to leave it and lets himself fall down beside her on the couch. He wasn’t actually hating that she was here. Laura was his oldest sister and probably his closest as well. He loved all three his sisters, obviously, and whilst Laura was the one that got on his nerves the most, she was also the one that had always taken care of him. Had always defended him. Had taken him under her wing. 

Despite his personality being more similar to Kiara’s, both of them being a bit more reserved, Laura was the one who had really shaped him. She knew exactly when she needed to push him, much to his annoyance, but in the end she was always right about it being exactly what he needed.

He grunts when she suddenly flicks his forehead and he goes to rub it furtively as he watches her stick out her tongue. Yeah, he takes back what he said. Laura’s a bitch.

They surf through the channels together, ending up at some home makeover show and soon Laura is complaining about how boring his apartment is and before he knows what’s happening she’s on ikea’s website ordering him decorative pillows. He told her that he doesn’t want any decorative pillows, but apparently it is what would tie the room together. When he said she should get him a rug then, Laura just looks at him with puzzled brows and he sighs. 

Stiles would have gotten that joke, his traturious mind tells him. Jesus fuck, why is Stiles all he seems to be able to think about these days?

Laura’s brows furrow even further as she reads his expression. “What are you sighing for?” 

“Nothing,” He barks out. 

“Is this about Kiara hiring that witch you fancy?” 

“He’s not a witch. And why does everyone think I fancy him?” 

Laura just cackles at that, moving to ruffle his hair in that annoying older sister way. “Because you do, don’t you Derbear?”

Letting a sigh fall from his lips, Derek decides he’s too tired to even argue. “Let’s just talk about how you’re thirty and still single instead?” 

His sister rolls her eyes before grinning as she goes back to face the television. “Deflection is confirmation, Der.” 

\--

Grease is covering his forearms and probably a large portion of his shirt as well. Whilst he isn’t the biggest fan of wifebeaters in his daily wardrobe, they’re perfect for work as they seem to last forever - no matter how many oil and grease stains they get. He sighs, knowing he won’t be able to fix the prius today, but at least he was able to identify the problem. Now that he knew what was wrong, it would be an easy fix tomorrow morning. 

Cracking his back, he wanders over to the little kitchen area next to their garage. Ed, one of his older coworkers, huffs out a laugh when Derek enters. “Jeez son, you look like you had to wrestle your way out of there.” 

Derek cracks a smile. Ed’s own faded Harley Davidson shirt seems to have a couple of fresh stains as well, but as he looks down at his clothes, he sees Ed was right. Somehow he’d managed to get himself covered in the thick black motor oil. He grins as he sits down at their table, Ed wordlessly handing him a can of Heineken and he cracks his back as they chat over the day together.

Derek loved Ed. The older man had truly taken him under his wing, back when Derek was looking for a job (his engineering degree not good enough for big projects and his unstable few mental years not making him fit for full time positions). Ed had just looked him over once and gave him a job on the spot, saying he looked like a good kid. Six years later, the two of them basically run the mechanic shop together and Ed has begun to feel like something close to family. 

“Did you hear about that new car dealer opening up in north?” Ed takes a sip out of the green can. Drops of condensation ending up in his moustache. 

Derek shakes his head as he grabs his jacket from where it was draped over the chair next to him. “What about it?”

“They’re going to be covering repairs as well. Makes me wonder if it might cut into our business.”

Derek shrugs. “It might. But I think our customer base is pretty loyal.”

“That’s true.” Ed smiles at the thought and chuckles roughly, his voice affected by his years of smoking. “Cable tie lady came in again yesterday. I think it must be the fourth time I’ve explained to her how cable ties work.”

Derek can’t help his grin. He knew exactly who Ed meant. The older lady came in often, usually wearing dresses a little too fancy for a dirty car shop, and always beamed at seeing Ed. “I think it’s not her car she comes in for.” 

Ed’s eyebrows rise almost comically as he gets Derek’s meaning. Derek smiles to himself and goes to check his phone as he leaves Ed to think it over. Frowning, he sees Kiara’s texted him. The contents of her text make him sigh a little.

He gets up and sends Ed a tired smile. “Right, apparently I am still my sister’s personal janitor so I’ll have to be off.”

Ed snickers slightly as he waves him goodbye. “See ya tomorrow kid.”

Derek didn’t really mind having to fix things for Kiara. If it helped his sister cut down on costs, he’d happily do it. It was just always after he’d already finished an eight hour shift and really just wanted to fall onto his couch and watch Gordon Ramsey scream at people that have a love for using microwaves. And well, fixing a leaking sink just didn’t give him the same pleasure. 

Stiles stands at the bar when he arrives, arms folded over each other and Derek’s eyes can’t help but linger on the way the position shows off his lean neck. His wolf purrs inside him, wanting to get closer. Derek swallows, shaking his head in an attempt to shake that line of thought out, and he freezes slightly when those amber eyes meet his. 

“Oh, hi.” Stiles stumbles out, sending him an unimpressed look. The scent of irritation fills up the air. 

Right. Stiles probably thinks he’s a dick, which would be a pretty fair assessment considering how he’d behaved. His wolf however is currently making it very clear that it does not find Stiles a dick at all, something inside him clawing to get closer.

It annoys Derek. Being around Stiles is somehow infuriatingly difficult for him. But he should probably make an effort to not come across as a douche this time. 

“Hi.” Derek attempts not to let his brows speak for him, as Kiara calls it, as he breaks their eyecontact in an attempt to not make things awkward. “I’m here to sink the fix. Umh, wait no - fix the sink.”

Jesus, he needs to get a grip. Looking up, he sees that his mishap did manage to turn the corners of Stiles’ mouth upwards. That’s something at least. 

“You do you, dude.” Stiles moves out of his way as he goes to continue restocking the international beer fridge. His posture seems stiff and rigid, clearly not all that comfortable in Derek’s presence. Derek pretends that fact doesn’t sting a little.

He knows he’s not exactly been a pleasure so far, but he can’t help but feel shut down by the other man. Sighing slightly, he goes to inspect the leak. Kiara’s been complaing about it for the last week, saying she can hear the stupid water falling every damn second. Taking a quick look, it seems to be a relatively easy fix. However, being in close proximity to Stiles does slow him down. The spark’s scent is filling up the bar and it’s strong in its sweetness. It’s..distracting. 

Behind him Stiles releases a displeased sound. It makes Derek turn, arching his brow. Stiles is frowning at a paper he’s holding and jesus even his eyebrows seem perfect. Derek swallows, composing himself, and despite not knowing if Stiles would appreciate it - he speaks up. “Everything alright?”

Stiles turns his way with a surprised expression. The initial surprise does annoy Derek, but he supposes that’s his own fault. “Umh, no actually. Do you know what Satomi bottles are? I think I restocked everything, but I didn’t see any bottles labeled Satomi.”

Derek nods as he goes to stand up from underneath the bar. Stiles’ eyes are wide as he approaches and Derek swallows at the thoughts that are running through his head. “Right. Satomi is an old friend of our family, her pack is the one that delivers us our hard liquor. So that’s what she means.”

“Ah right, okay good I already did those.” Stiles nods, expression still stoic. 

There’s a tense atmosphere between them and whilst Derek finds himself wanting to fix it, wanting to..say something nice or friendly, he finds himself too antsy to do something about it. His wolf is restless inside him, seemingly wanting to interact with Stiles desperately but Derek can recognize when he’s getting a cold shoulder and the one Stiles is giving him is almost freezing. 

He just doesn’t know how to act or position himself around Stiles. He’s not good at making small talk and whilst Stiles seems to be great at that with the others, he doesn’t seem to be interested in having it with Derek. 

Feeling strangely rejected, he makes quick work of fixing the leak before saying bye to Stiles and rushing home to go hide in his bed. Maybe Gorden Ramsay will be able to cheer him up a bit.  
  


\--

If there’s one thing that Stiles has learned working at Moonstruck, it’s that Hayden was a complete mess. No offense, but the girl didn’t seem to have much of a system. Or a plan. Or skill. Yes, the brews got done but the ingredient choices were just weird sometimes and reading through her notebooks and diary had revealed that she really had not been all that structured in her work. As well as actual materials, there had been quite a few items Stiles really kind of needed that Hayden had apparently never felt the necessity for. 

Maybe it’s because he’s a spark that he has more of an..attuned way of doing things. Magical experience and such. The girl really had only been human of course and wolfsbane could be hard to read even for magical beings.

Still weird to describe himself as a magical being, but oh well. 

He does have the feeling that working at Moonstruck has actually been really good for his spark. Where before his spark would just randomly come out and always felt tense, alert, it now felt..pleased. It was nice to be actively utilizing that part of him, instead of hiding it away until he needs it. His training sessions with Deaton always gave him a content feeling afterwards, but that usually went away as he hadn’t really needed to use his abilities in his daily life.

But now he’s using them at least four days a week, counting his training, and he’s noticed feeling more at peace. More connected. His actual abilities seem to have developed as well over the three weeks he’s worked here now. They’re a bit quicker, somehow less clouded. He feels more in touch with it, so to speak. It’s a nice feeling.

He cracks his back as he gets up from behind his slightly cluttered desk and walks over to the monkshood case. Even from behind the glass the leaves of the flowers reflect their deep violet colour in the orange glow of the heath lamp installed above it. Stiles inches closer, carefully cutting off a few strands of the wolfsbane that look fully grown as he shuts his miniature greenhouse again. He does try to be careful to not let any of it escape too much into the air, because you never know. Rather not see a weird emotional vision of his dad. He’d had enough of those over the years.

The kitchen machine purrs as he turns it to the highest setting and lets the blades grind the aconitum filled flower to pulp. He’d already finished preparing his pack recipes last week. This new mixture was a bit of an experiment, attempting a cherry flavored beer to add some more diversity to their brews. A fruit beer seemed like a good option with summer coming around, but it turned out to be more difficult than he’d expected to balance the sweet flavour of cherry and the stronger flavour of the hops. 

Having dropped the wolfsbane powder into the maroon liquid, he all but yelps as there’s suddenly a loud thud behind him. Turning around, he can see a pleased Erica shaking her head at him from where she's thrown a crate onto his desk. 

Stiles moves a hand up to his heart like the easily spooked child he still is. “Damn you werewolves. If you could just all be sensitive to my regular human instincts that would be very much appreciated.” 

“Don’t be a baby Batman.” Erica clicks her tongue mockingly. “I’m being nice and bringing you the vials you wanted.”

Yes his vials!! Excited he stands up from his seat and goes to grab something to open the crate with. He couldn’t really believe Hayden hadn’t used vials to make the wolfsbane reproduce faster but at least Kiara had immediately ordered some when he asked. 

A scowl falls onto his face as he looks at Erica. “Wait, you thought it’d be a good idea to throw a crate with glass vials?”

“I didn’t throw them.” Erica rolls her eyes before smirking. “Let’s hope they’re not as sensitive as you are.”

“Har har, you’re hilarious.” 

“I know.” Her grin turns way too pleased at that as she flicks her golden hair over her shoulder and walks back out to the bar. Shaking his head, he opens the crate and takes out the different sized and coloured vials and moves them to the smaller table he’s cleared out for them. The next hour is spent cutting off a few of the baby sprouts and placing them in the water filled vials, before Stiles notices it’s already after eight - he should probably join the girls up front.

Erica sticks out her tongue to him as he enters and he sends her a middle finger back. Kiara rolls her eyes at their antics and wordlessly hands him a diet coke. He gratefully takes a sip, always enjoying that first metally taste of cola flavour.

An older man with tired eyes sits at the bar, sighing deeply as he takes slow sips out of his foamy beer. He looks up as he notices Stiles and when Stiles sends him a greeting smile he suddenly gets pulled into the man’s relationship drama. Apparently his ex wife Carol and him had tried again but had now just split up because he hadn’t been appreciative enough of Carol’s cooking. Which might sound like a short story, but believe me it was not. Stiles now knows every ingredient in Carol’s defamed couscous.

He can hear Kiara and Erica snickering behind him as he still can’t get away from the man and his heartbreak. It must have been some couscous. For a second Stiles thinks the man might start crying, but thankfully he just hiccups drunkenly before excusing himself.

Kiara sounders over to him with a smirk as the man left to the bathroom. “Now you’re really one of us Stiles, listening to Jim’s love life updates is our rite de passage.” 

Stiles chuckles, looking at where Jim had disappeared through the bathroom door. “I can see where Carol’s coming from. Couscous is delicious.”

Kiara’s smile widens, laughter sparkling in her deep green eyes, and she moves her hand over his arm happily. Stiles can’t help but feel flattered at the obvious scenting she’s doing, but pretends not to notice. 

“They’ll be back together next week anyways.” Erica grins as she goes to grab some empty glasses from the shelf.

“Ah right, the traffic light relationships.” 

“Yeah.” Kiara looks like she can’t contain her smirk. “The two are always tangled, dramatically breaking up and lovingly reuniting. It’s become an amusing part of our work week.” 

Jim walks back into the room then, moving his hands through his greying hair, and Stiles is quick to go help another customer. More of them had come in as he was talking to Jim and the rest of the evening was a haze of mixing drinks and taking orders without much of a moment to breathe.

When the last customer walks out through their double doors, Kiara releases a loud sigh as she flicks the lock closed behind him. “Jesus what a night. I almost thought about calling in back up for a minute.”

“You should have.” Erica groans as she hops onto a bar stool and kicks off her doc martens, abandoning them on the floor in favour of rubbing her feet. She looks at Stiles with a pout. “Do you know how hard you have to run in order for your feet to hurt as a werewolf?”

“Human over here, my feet hurt every day.” 

Kiara sends them an amused smile before grinning as she grabs two bottles of tequila off the wall. “Let’s numb that pain then.” 

After work drinks were pretty standard on the weekend and Stiles found himself loving that fact. The three of them laugh as they take shots and chat more about Jim and his marriage issues. Stiles gets the whole juicy history and finds himself now already looking forward to see the greying werewolf again. The night ends with Kiara grabbing him for a tight hug and thanking him for coming on board. He walks home with a smile so big that no one can wipe it off his lips.

\--

Working with and generally getting to know the Hales has also been an interesting experience so far. They’re clearly a close pack and there’s a level of teasing between the siblings that even Stiles struggles to keep up with. The Hales all seem to have a flavour of..assholeness. 

It’s obvious in Cora. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the girl but yeah she is definitely a shit starting asshole. It’s less obvious in Kiara, who is basically an angel with her sweet smiles and genuine interest in everyone she meets. But his boss most certainly also has a streak of assholeness, hidden within her witty comments and her expressive eyebrows. He’s yet to meet the oldest sister Laura, apparently she is a high end attorney for a big firm in the east of town, but what he’s heard from stories tells him that she’s probably the worst of them all.

Derek is most definitely a genuine asshole. As in, a dickhead who hates Stiles for some reason. Whilst they hadn’t been uncivil the other day and whilst Derek came in occasionally, always glaring at Stiles, Stiles felt as if they’d gone right back to square one this bar shift. 

Which might also be on him a little, considering that as soon as he’d heard he’d have to work with Derek all night long his mood turned sour. Which Derek had probably been able to tell..or sniff. 

The guy is just so grumpy looking. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever seen the guy smile in the weeks he’s worked here. And well, the whole being a dick thing. So the bar shift was awkward to say the least. Stiles had gotten used to working with Erica or Cora, so talking was basically all they did in between costumers. Derek wasn’t much of a talker, instead just standing behind the bar with an angry looking frown marking his expression. There was no talking, basically. Not even when Stiles tried.

God, Stiles had even gone to Jim in order to not feel the awkwardness and annoyance that’s just waving of Derek. And yes Jim was back together with Carol after they bumped into each other at a video store, which what? Who still goes to video stores?

Then a customer orders something called a beta moon, one of the house cocktails apparently, and Kiara hadn’t explained how to make those yet. So reluctantly, Stiles turns to Derek. 

The other man looks less than pleased at Stiles approaching, not even managing to look him in the eye. Stiles bites his lip in annoyance, getting real tired of this act. “Look dude, can you just show me how to make it?”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek sighs, shaking his head in what looks like annoyed regret, before turning to grab the bottle of Satomi’s wodka and pouring a shot into a tall glass. His posture is rigid as he does it and Stiles is getting more and more worked up about how Derek somehow just doesn’t seem to even want to try to be nice. 

“You need to add some mint and lime juice,” Derek hands him the glass roughly and an annoyed knot settles in Stiles’ stomach at the way this is going. He knows they haven’t exactly been chatty this shift, but all Stiles did was ask Derek to show him how to make this drink. There’s literally no need to be a dick.

In fact, he’s had enough. If Derek wants to be a dick that’s fine, but Stiles will most definitely call him out on it.

Having handed the werecreature their freshly mixed drink, he can feel the anger in his steps as he walks towards Derek. He lowers his voice to a persistent whisper and makes sure to look Derek into those god damn pretty eyes.

“Look I don’t know what your problem with me is or why you apparently find me so annoying, but can we just at least be civil?” 

Derek has the audacity to look confused, as if he hadn’t spent basically this entire shift ignoring Stiles. “I don’t find you annoying.”

Which..okay that’s just untrue. Stiles shakes his head at the obvious lie, not in the mood to play these kind of mind games, and moves to grab the tray of dirty glasses from where it’s standing on the floor. “Right, of course you don’t. I’ll be cleaning these in the back, can you close up by yourself?” 

If Derek wanted to respond, Stiles didn’t give him the chance as he swiftly walked through the back door. Stiles knows alienating his boss her brother might not be the best idea, but Derek started it.

\--

The light of his laptop is starting to irritate his vision and he sighs as he switches his browser into night mode. The bright white turns into a softer black background, significantly easier on his tired eyes. It’s midterms week, most of which he’s spent hauled up in the university library. The collection of empty coffee cups and poptart wrappers next to him proving he’s actually been at studying for a while. 

He’s enjoying it though, as much as one can enjoy library sessions. Criminology is all he wanted it to be. It’s interesting, actually incorporating anthropology and psychology research methods. He likes it, the combination of quantitative and qualitative research. Paints a truer picture. Yet, with what he knows about the world and the creatures that live in it..he knows it’s not the full picture. 

His stomach grumbles and he looks down at it betrayed. Sighing, he realizes he should probably get some real food inside him before he continues. Closing his laptop and packing up the rest of his stuff, he walks outside towards the tiny lunchroom across the street of the uni. It’s a good change of location to continue studying, with it being a student regular. Too bad he wasn’t alone in that line of thought, he scans the room for a spare table between the many laptop filled seating areas.

His lips turn up when he spots Cora sitting on the other side of the room. She’s engulfed in the screen in front of her, the white wires of her headphones falling loosely beside her face and her head snaps up as he approaches. She sends him a small smile as she motions for him to join her.

The girl looks just as exhausted as he feels with the slightest hint of bags under her eyes, making sense since it’s midterms week for her too. She takes out her headphones and looks up at him exasperated and he smiles easily as he sits down on the wooden chair in front of her. “How’s the week treating you?” 

“Shite.” Cora huffs out a breath, scowling. “I don’t know why I thought I should take up this German course. Germanic is not my thing.”

“Deutsch ist auch keine einfache sprache.” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at her, too tired for his full on smirk.

Cora deadpans his way, but he can see the corners of her lips rising. “That was the worst pronunciation I’ve ever heard.” 

“You wound me Cora.” He fake pouts, before regaining seriousness and moving to grab Cora’s _Introduction to German language and culture_ book off the table to inspect it idly. He flips through it without much thought, his hands happy with a distraction. “Why’d you pick it then?” 

“I don’t even know.” Cora’s mood seems to dampen, sighing softly as she takes the book back from his hands and stares at it as if it should be able to answer his question for her. “To be honest, I don’t know why I’m even here still. I know I won’t be doing anything with this degree anyway, so.”

She releases a defeated sigh and Stiles frowns at the genuine unhappiness he finds in her eyes. He’d known Cora didn’t enjoy studying, but he hadn’t known that she was this annoyed by it. For a second he’s conflicted, he’s only known Cora for a little while now so maybe it’s not his place to comment. But no, he should. Attempting an understanding smile, he speaks up. “Then what would you like to do? You don’t have to go to uni you know.”

Cora’s eyes shift to his in a slightly shocked manner, before a soft gleam comes over them. She shrugs though, pretending not to care. “I enjoy studying Spanish you know. I learned it a little bit when me and Derek spent some time down in Mexico with Satomi and it was the only thing I’d ever really enjoyed learning.” She chuckles and Stiles feels a warmth fill up his chest. “So it’s not like I don’t enjoy it, but I don’t want to be a linguist or a teacher or anything like that. I don’t really know what I want.” 

Stiles grabs a hold of her hand and when it makes the other girl scowl he rolls his eyes. Jesus, these Hales. It also makes him snort, which leads to Cora releasing a soft laugh. He smiles. “It’s okay not to know what you want. Even if you stay at Moonstruck, that’s okay too right? Like it’s the coolest place to work, genuinenly, I still can’t get over the fact how fucking cool it is.” 

Cora smiles, a small but proud smile, as she nods. “Yeah, I love the Moonstruck. It’s nice to be with pack all the time.”

“I can imagine.” Stiles smiles.

Cora rolls her eyes impressively hard for how tired she seems. “I’d hope you wouldn’t have to imagine. You’re included in that now.” 

“I’ve worked there for a month.” Stiles huffs out a breath.

“I know.” Cora’s eyes flick up and down in body in an iquusatibe manner. As if she’s just now thinking about it for the first time. “There’s just something about you.”

Stiles can’t help the probably ridiculous smile he’s now sporting as he ducks his head. The comment makes him feel a little shy for some reason. He knows how important pack is to wolves. Especially for born wolves. Their Beacon Hills pack hadn’t been much. Just a group of lone teenagers thrown into danger together, apparently more of them magic than they realized, but still nonetheless..people born without a sense of needing a pack. Pack was something that was forced on them. It turned out to be something they needed, but they’d been forced into needing it. For Cora, a born wolf, pack was something natural. To say she felt him somewhat belonging to that, it makes him wonder what she means. What she feels. He knows it means a lot though. His spark warms inside him, flashes of joy sprouting through his limbs, at the thought. 

When he looks back up he can see Cora staring at him amused. He sticks out his tongue, slightly embarrassed by his body’s pleased reaction. But fuck her if she wants to make fun of him, she can’t take back those words. “Well, I was going to order some food here. Have you eaten?”

They order themselves a quick stirfry, Cora one with teriyaki chicken and him choosing a veggie one, and spend the rest of the evening studying and revising together. It’s nearly half past ten when Cora’s phone goes off. She’s staying at Laura’s tonight and apparently the eldest Hale wanted to hit the sack soon. Stiles smiles, deciding he should probably head home as well, and when they’re outside in the cold evening Cora suddenly turns to him serious. A soft expression marking her features. 

“Derek doesn’t find you annoying, you know.”

She states it as a fact. No emotion, no intentions, no expectations for him to respond. Just a fact. Then she waves before turning and walking towards the direction he supposes Laura’s place is in, leaving Stiles to stare confusedly at her back. 

\--

Despite woulding have preferred to think about Cora’s sudden comment on him and Derek a bit, it’s the next day when he gets confronted with the whole him and Derek situation once more. 

Considering it’s wednesday afternoon and there are a few lone customers all happily enjoying a beer Kiara had taken the time to explain all their house cocktails to him. Which are all appropriately named. 

Mark your Martini. Divine Canine. Omega Pornstar. Shift on the beach. 

Currently he’s watching as Kiara pours a shot of brown rum into a triangular glass for what’s called the _Team Jacob_ when she eyes him carefully. There’s a serious look in her eyes and Stiles would worry if it wasn’t for the kind smile that accompanied it. She clears her throat as she turns in her position, moving to lean back against the bar and screwing the tin cap back on the bottle of captain morgan. 

“I know Derek might not come across as an all that friendly person.” Her tone is sensitive, but there’s a protective edge to it and Stiles opens his mouth as if to defend himself, not wanting both Cora and Kiara to apparently think he finds their brother an asshole - even if that’s mostly true, but she stops him with a simple motion of her hand. 

For a second Stiles swallows, noticing that Kiara is obviously high in the Hale pack hierarchy with the authority she expels with the movement. He knows she isn’t next in line to be alpha, Laura is, but it’s clear she holds much power within her. It would suit her, if he’s honest. Being an alpha. She’s both kind as well as possessing a genuine authority within her. A gentle but firm leader.

Which is why this conversation feels a little like a repercussion. 

Kiara turns to the back wall and goes to grab a bottle of peach schnapps off the shelf. The movement makes the loose bun on her head fall down a bit. She continues then, voice steady, filling up the glass until its midpoint. “He can seem grumpy and uninterested, but he’s a good guy. I’m not saying you two have to bond and become bffs and I’m not blaming you at all for struggling with him. Hell, we all do sometimes.” 

She smiles with fondness now, looking back up at him. “Just don’t judge the book by its cover.”

Stiles nods, an initial feeling of guilt rushing up in his stomach. With both sisters having spoken to him, he knows Derek must have told them about their last bar shift together. And was apparently upset by it. He bites his lip.

Yes, Derek had definitely not been all that nice to him, but maybe Kiara was right and he’d judged the guy too harshly. Maybe he hadn’t really given him a chance. Shit, he had been a dick as well hadn’t he? 

A hand falls onto his shoulder and he looks up into Kiara’s kind eyes as she squeezes his shoulder with reassurance. Seemingly having sensed his worry. He breathes out, her touch easing some of his guilt out of him and they share a small smile as they look at one another.

Then she grins widely, eyes sparkling with mischief as she pops back into boss mode. “So my dear spark, make me a Divine Canine.”

\--

The empty shelves of his fridge stare him down as he hunts for a few leftover ingredients he can whip up a quick pasta or something with. The lone zucchini and half of a bell pepper stare him down from the vegetable drawer and he feels a slight bit shameful of how poorly he’s handling adult life. 

Work and midterms have really kept him quite busy lately and considering his Moonstruck shifts are usually starting around or just before dinner time restocking their fridge has not been his highest priority. He also misses dining with Lyds every day, but thankfully he’s got today free so they can catch up properly. 

Over a very sad pasta with dried up zucchini. Yay. Flicking on the stove, he fills a pot with warm water and the leftover bag of penne in preparation. He shakes some salt into the water before walking into their living room with a grin marking his lips.

“Lyds! I’m making a pasta that I think would genuinely break Italian hearts, not that Italians would be happy with anything I cook but still you’re in for a real treat.” 

Lydia rolls her eyes from where she’s sitting filing her nails on their couch. “As tempting as that offer is, and believe me it truly is Stiles, I can’t tonight.” 

“What? Why?” A pout quickly replaces his grin as he motions to himself and Lydia with flailing arms. “This was supposed to be Stiles and Lydia catching up night.” 

His friend’s expression turns stoic, with a dash of unimpressed thrown in there. “Then maybe you should have actually invited Lydia?” 

“That’s-” he opens his mouth before closing it again. “Yeah, good point. But still, leaving me alone on my one day off?” 

Lydia rolls her eyes again, but in a fond manner. Mostly. She lowers her nail file then, moving to place it in her bright pink manicure set and placing it down on the table, before standing up and walking towards their coat rack. “I’m sure you’ll survive, Stiles.” 

Only now noticing the elegant azure coloured dress she’s wearing Stiles looks at her with intrigue. “Where did you say you were going?”

“I didn’t say where I was going.” Lydia grabs her clutch purse thingie from the shelf and puts her phone inside before moving to gather her set of keys from their dinner table. Stiles watches her as she moves around their livingroom to grab the rest of her belongings and her shoes.

Stiles deadpans. “And will you be telling me?” 

Lydia just plays coy and stays quiet as she moves to sit down and tie the straps of her heels. Suppressing an eyeroll, because she always does this, Stiles is pretty sure he’s deducted it anyway. She’s wearing heels after all. He grins as he goes to lean against the door frame. “So who are you going on a date with? Someone from work?”

“With Jordan actually.” 

“Jackson guy?” Stiles can’t help his slight snort. 

An annoyed look gets thrown his way and he quickly jumps up from his casual position to you know.. actually be a nice and supportive friend. He raises his hands innocently. “Okay sorry sorry I won’t call him that anymore. But the blue eyes and persistent cheekbones combination is definitely a thing for you, just so you know. And whilst i’m slightly offended you didn’t tell me you were still talking to him, I do like it. So spill. Where are you guys going?” 

“Dinner. And I think we might be going to your work after that.”

“Right so when I invite you you’re too busy but when Jordan invites you you’re suddenly all excited?” He can’t help his glare, even if there isn’t real annoyance behind it.

Lydia rolls her eyes, the third time since the start of this conversation, but a soft smile comes onto her lips as she looks at him. Her eyes are genuine when she speaks up. “I’m sorry for not being able to do Lydia and Stiles catching up night, it’s true that we’ve both been quite busy lately. I’d love a raincheck though.”

“Of course Lyds.” Stiles smiles as she comes and gives him a goodbye hug. He wraps his arms around her frame, the silk material of her dress feeling smooth underneath his hands. Kissing the top of her head, he speaks up. “Have fun on your date. You deserve some fun.”

She backs out of their embrace, smiling softly. “Thanks Stiles.”

Clutching her purse as if it’s a weapon, she moves towards their front door, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Stiles smiles at the sight, before his brows move up in realization. “Wait Lyds, if you’re going to my work after..is he a were?” 

“Hellhound actually.” She smirks.

“What?” Stiles can’t help but grab onto Lydia’s shoulders and shake her a little, genuine excitement filling him up. “Why didn’t you tell me? An actual hellhound? How does that work? Does he have three heads? Or light on fire? Is it an underworld thing or more of a Harry Potter thing? You know, I should just come with you. I have so many questions.”

Swatting his hands off, Lydia shakes her head bemusedly. Her voice is sharp, but he can see the grin she’s trying to hide. “No Stiles, you can’t come on my date.”

“Then maybe I will just be in the area.”

The look he receives is one filled with seemingly genuine pity. “Don’t be a loser, Stiles.”

With that she walks out the door, the split in her dress moving along with her, and Stiles realizes she’s probably right. He shouldn’t be a loser.

But as he notices his pasta pot has overcooked in the meantime he realizes that maybe this whole lonely gross pasta dinner is even more being a loser than coming into your work when you’re not working. He shoots Cora a quick text before calling his dad as company for during dinner. He tries to call his dad at least once a week to chat and figure out how the Beacon Hills life is. How the eating healthy life is. And of course because he does actually miss his dear old dad.

After sharing stories of his new job and dad’s new neighbour who is apparently building some sort of creepy murder cabin in the backyard - Stiles had made a mental note to let Scott thoroughly sniff that person -, he sees both Cora and Erica have texted him.

 **Tiny Hale:** _we’re def going to be drinking after today. Fucking shite hen party in here._

 **Catwoman:** _pls come and save us_

It’s not being a loser if you’re invited right?

He watches two more episodes of _Love On The Spectrum_ , which make him feel a little giddy inside, before walking into his room and pulling one of his casual longsleeves out of his dresser. It has a pattern of moon cycles on the left arm and he finds it appropriate for the occasion.

He heads out. Moonstruck really only is an eight minute walk away, which is great for his morning sleep in and awful for his possibility to make up excuses if he’s late.

They don’t close for another few hours, but he figures he can just hang out at the bar for a bit. Get some free beer and annoy Erica. A laugh splutters out of his mouth when he walks in to the sight of a clearly drunk group of women - probably the hen party - all mimicking sex positions in the middle of the room, cackling loudly as they do so. A quick glance behind the bar revealed that he won’t have to try too hard to annoy Erica tonight. 

“I love a good sexual energy as much as the rest of us,” she starts when he approaches, as pouring red petrikov vodka into a row of shot glasses, “but this round is catholic.” 

Catholic. Meaning not laced. Stiles smirks at her as she sends him an annoyed glare before going over to bring the girls their round of shots. That was honestly quite an advantage of the werewolf situation, once they were pissed out of their minds and still wanted more - it was easy to just give them regular alcohol. It tasted slightly different, but at that point none of them could tell anymore anyway. It helped them keep a little control over possible puke situations.

“Can I get you anything?” 

Stiles looks up to see Derek looking at him unsurely. A small wave of guilt fills Stiles’ stomach and his spark reaches out tenderly. He’d thought about what Kiara had said and had realized that he too had a part in the strained interactions between him and Derek. He still found it mostly Derek’s fault, but he could definitely have been a whole lot nicer himself. 

They’d just gotten off to a bad start, so let’s make it a better continuation. 

“Yeah dude, I’ll take the Brewdog.” He goes for a smile, annoyed at seeing the initial surprise on Derek’s face before his eyes soften. 

Derek sends him a somewhat amused look. “I thought I told you not to call me dude.”

“What should I call you then?” He raises his eyebrows. “Grumpybrows? Mcdreamy with a glaring problem?” 

The deadpan he receives makes him snicker a little, especially when he notices there might be a bit of genuine enjoyment in those green eyes. “Derek’s fine.” 

“DerBear is the family favourite.” A grinning Cora slides into the conversation, placing the crate of hard liquor she was carrying behind the bar and looking at Stiles with pleased eyes. He feels a surge of happiness rush through his spark and he knows it was her doing. 

Stiles can feel his smirk widening. “DerBear it is then.” 

The man in question does not look too pleased about this development, but somehow doesn’t argue. The bar isn’t too busy, the hen party making up the largest portion of the people inside with a few regulars sitting in the booths in the corner. The hens are definitely making the bar feel crowded though, with their elaborate dancing, laughter and weirdly sexual drinking games. Cora and Erica keep making annoyed eyes at them and sneak away shots when they think no one is looking. Derek of course notices and then gives them a disapproving older brother look, which makes Stiles laugh. Derek catches his eye a couple of times and they actually share a couple of small smiles. 

It’s about twenty minutes later when Lydia walks through the door with her date in tow. She rolls her eyes at seeing him and comes over to lightly punch him on his arm as she sends him a small smirk. “I knew you’d go be a loser. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to knock it out of you.” 

“Oh your highness I’m so sorry for disappointing you.” Stiles chuckles as he raises his eyebrows. “But please you love my nerdy ass.”

Lydia shakes her head mockingly, whipping her hair over her shoulder before properly introducing Jordan. Who Stiles already knew from the delightful drunk walk home they once shared. In which Stiles had mostly talked about the herd structures of Indian elephants, so he didn’t really know the guy all that well. 

The other man looked less like Jackson than Stiles remembered and was actually stupidly pretty with those light eyes and long eyelashes. Nice catch Lyds. Stiles happily shakes his hand, laughing as Jordan mentions he’s a nerd too and mouthing nice work to a Lydia who’s pretending not to be pleased over their nerd bonding. As if Lydia didn’t have a huge attraction to nerds to begin with.

Cora keeps their beers and Lydia’s prosecco coming and the atmosphere becomes filled with a pleasant comfortable drunkness. The hen party finally leaves and Erica locks up behind them, before joining in on the star wars conversation him and Jordan were having because she is the biggest nerd of them all. “Look Han definitely shot first, or he’d have ridiculously fast reflexes.” 

“You mean like a werewolf?” Stiles challenges.

The deep maroon eyes in front of him widen almost comically as Erica runs the possibility over in her head. It’s Lydia however who chimes in with the facts. She carelessly studies her nails as she speaks up. “If Han were a werewolf he would have been able to track Luke easily when they lost him. There’s more of a chance that Proxima is a vampire considering she can’t stand sunlight.”

“Proxima?” Stiles gasps audibly, moving his hand over his heart in a hurt manner. “You watched Solo A star wars story without me?” 

Lydia shrugs teasingly, grinning way too pleased and Stiles can’t believe she would have the audacity. She always pretended to hate his star wars ramblings. The bitch. Derek huffs out a soft sound Stiles thinks is a laugh. Stiles sends him a small, genuine grin. 

This night had painted Derek in a different light. Stiles now saw that his grumpy behaviour wasn’t as much assholeness, but maybe more a form of socially awkwardness. He feels bad for judging the other guy as much as he had. 

“Well vampires aren’t real, thankfully.” Jordan smiles kindly and gosh is he a cutie with his dimples. 

Him and Lydia share a pointed look at the comment though, because according to the copy of Argent’s bestiary they have at home vampires are definitely a thing. Only Derek seems to pick up on their look, now facing Stiles with raised eyebrows as an enquiry. A brief moment of panic comes over Stiles, because whilst the Hales know he’s a spark they don’t know about Lydia or what happened in Beacon Hills and Stiles would actually prefer to keep it that way. He smiles as he gives Derek a casual shrug, hoping that will be enough to stop his questioning brows. 

Thankfully Cora cuts in then, pouring herself a scotch as she eyes Erica and Derek. “One of you two needs to help me do the register count.”

“Do it yourself.” Erica gives her an air kiss as she goes back to studying her nails, clearly not getting up from her acclaimed stool.

“I’ll do it.” Stiles and Derek say simultaneously. Oh.

“Well that’s even better.” Cora smirks widely as she leaps out from behind the bar and makes herself comfortable on a chair with elaborate movements. Yeah, so she's not doing it anymore.

Stiles wants to roll his eyes but him and Derek do move to the back, Derek carrying the mobile register under his arm. His broad arm. His very attractive, broad arm. And no, we’re not going in that line of thought just because Derek is nice tonight. Stop it Stiles, stop it.

The two of them walk into Kiara’s office and Stiles grabs the red coloured binder she keeps in the top drawer and starts filling out the date as Derek makes quick work of counting the cash inside the register. 

“Four fifties and twelve twenties.” 

Stiles nods as he jots the figures down in their respective boxes. Mindlessly playing with the pen he waits until Derek’s finished counting the spare change, only looking up when it’s quiet for a bit too long. He finds Derek to be staring at him, coins still in his open palm. Stiles arches his brow. “You okay there?” 

“Sorry.” Derek seems to force the word out. “Sorry if I was mean to you before.” 

Stiles can feel his eyebrows rise at the suddenness of that comment, but he retakes himself and quickly shrugs as if it’s all good. His cheeks still heat up despite that. “No worries Derek, I mean yeah you were a bit dickish but I think I was as well. So it’s all good.”

Derek looks slightly conflicted, before breaking eye contact in favour of looking down at the form. “I’m not that good with new people.”

Stiles shrugs again. “And I’m a little too quick to judge. So I guess I’m sorry too.” 

A tight nod is all he gets in response as Derek takes another look at the coins before dropping them back in the register drawer. “Twentyone quarters.”

\--

Thinking back it was Lydia’s werewolf punch that had started it all, even if she hadn’t known she was even making it. Mind control does that to you he suposes. Despite the jab of pain he still feels in his heart at he visions he’d had that night, it had opened a door for him. The purple leaves of the flowers floating amongst the alcoholic liquid. Skin tightened around his muscles, his chest rising in interest, an electric feeling shooting through his arms into his fingertipes. 

Looking back at it, that is the moment he’d pinpoint it. His magical awakening. And god that sounds lame. But it had been. Whilst it hadn’t been his first time around wolfsbane, still thanks for that trauma Gerard, it had been the first time seeing wolfsbane amongst other substances. Hidden. It had called out to his spark, even if he hadn’t known what that was at the time. 

Obviously mixing drinks hadn’t been his first focus once he did learn of the length and scale of his abilities. Mountain ash manipulation had been first priority, since that was what could help them most. Mistletoe was next. As well as weaponizing wolfsbane and healing wolfsbane wounds. Stiles was still a bit salty about the fact that despite him recognizing what wolfsbane type was in an injury, his fingers wouldn’t allow him to just light a simple fire to expel it. What good was identifying without immediate curing? Spark powers made no sense. At all.

Anyway, they were good for the booze. And he did not mean for that to sound so alcoholic, but oh well. They were. His powers allow him to balance the wolfsbane in its sharpness, taste and effect. Whenever he added too much, his body would tell him - a physical feeling of hollow wrong filling up his stomach. Too little would cause for his body to barely react at all. That, along with his years of experimenting for their unsupervised high school get togethers, had made him fairly confident in his recipes. 

Yet, staring into Kiara’s wide curious eyes and noticing the high expectations in them transported him back to fifth grade when he had to present his marquette of the solar system in front of the entire school. The memory makes him smile nonetheless, because his mother had sat on the first row with the widest, proudest grin on her lips. Dimples visible in her freckled cheeks. Eyes filled with confidence in him, belief in him. Right, he could do this.

The nerves still flush through his stomach as Kiara’s lips curl around the pint glass and she swallows her first sip of the slightly yellow coloured IPA. It’s his citrus one, with half a lemon and a quarter of a grapefruit hopefully balancing out the bitter hops and sharp wolfsbane. 

Kiara’s throat moves as she visibly swallows and her eyes pop to his. Her mouth opening and closing a couple of times. Despite the moment probably lasting less than a second, Stiles feels a pressure arrive on top of his chest. What if she hated it? What if she fired him? What if he wasn’t even good at the thing he was literally born to be good at? 

His tenseness gets broken when Kiara splutters out a disbelieving, but pleasantly sounding laugh. She shakes her head, eyes sparkling and a wide smile coming onto her features. “Holy shit. I can’t even taste the wolfsbane.” 

He can’t help his breath of relief and he too laughs when Kiara takes another large gulp, amused eyes staring him down. She chuckles again after her next swallow and looks at him incredibly. “Jesus Stiles, where have you been all my life?” 

Red creeps into his cheeks as he watches the genuine impressed look filling up his boss her eyes. He ducks his head automatically before facing her. “Little town called Beacon Hills. But just down the road the last couple of years.” 

Kiara grins before tilting her head, the blush headband she’s wearing shifting slightly on top of her hair. “It is strange that I never noticed you before. You do live close, weird that I never smelled your magic.” 

Yes. Very strange. Not as if he had Deaton ward up their apartment. That can’t be it. He huffs out a slightly forced laugh. “I shower, you know?” 

“Right. That must be it.” Kiara rolls her eyes at him before automatically taking another sip of the beer still curled in her hands. She releases a soft sound which Stiles would describe as a mixture of a moan and a laugh. “God, I could just down this whole glass.”

He chuckles, smirking slightly now that he knows she likes his work. “Maybe you should try the others before you’re making everyone crazy with your version of ABBA’s album behind the bar again.”

Her look turns sharp, eyebrows raised, as she points a stern finger at him. “Don’t ever hate on ABBA in my presence again.”

Laughing, he moves to the vat to scoop her a glass of his regular lager next. The eager skip in her step as she follows him makes him grin almost painfully wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for your support so far!! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the world building and charaterization, I aim to please after all
> 
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed


	3. the place of interest

The tiny man stares at him from behind his thick, round glasses. The wrinkles in his forehead seem to deepen as he tilts his head and gives Stiles another inspective once over. His voice is creaky, reminding Stiles of a character from an indie horror movie, when he finally speaks up. “Mage?” 

“Spark.” Stiles smiles. A lot of people struggled with placing him. Apparently sparks were rare to come by.

The man’s eyebrows shoot up in an impressed kind of fashion. A small grin comes to his chapped lips, which does nothing to reassure Stiles of this shop’s safety. “That is an honour then. What can I do for you?” 

“I’d like some Kusnezoff monkshood, Aconitum czekanovskyi and if you carry it a bit of grinded yarrow.” 

An interested gleam comes over the man’s expression as he moves to the wall behind him and starts pulling open some of the small drawers on the old fashioned pharmacy cabinet. Stiles eyes move to the glass jars on top of it, the one carrying what looks like actual wolf claws making him swallow. 

The man turns around then, eyes still gleaming. “Any reason for the Polish interest?”

Stiles smiles despite himself. “Just a preference.” 

The man just grins, not a very comforting look if Stiles is honest. He’d found the shop through Kiara’s connections. It’s a dingey little place up in north, looking like someone’s old attic converted into a storefront. It’s filled with glass cabinets and display cases, all sorts of supernatural items staring him down and he can’t help but wonder what happens if a group of regular human tourists wander in. 

But it’s a safe place apparently. Though Stiles questions whether this man checks the intentions people have with his goods. It’s all a bit too easy to get what he needs for his liking. But well, saves him some trouble. Whilst the greenhouse had some pretty nice types of wolfsbane, he wanted to experiment a little bit more. Polish wolfsbane apparently has a sour taste, which could be good for IPA’s as well as for a sour of course.

It’s been a week since his brews actually got linked up to the vats of the bar. Now when people ordered a beer, they got Stiles’ mixtures. He smiles at the memory of the rows of texts he’d received after it.

 **Bosslady:** Stiles I am getting compliments around the block. Thank u so much!! They love it as much as I do ;) 

**Tiny Hale:** _not bad Stilinski_

 **Catwoman:** _I WANT MORE OF THIS !! PLS TELL ME U WILL MAKE MORE_

 **Tiny Hale:** _ok everyone’s compliments here are annoying me now. Be less good next time, ok?_

Anyway, he was up for more experimentation. Variation could never hurt after all. Kiara had just smiled and gave him her contact at the shop he’s now in, saying he could get whatever he liked. She was nice like that. 

As soon as he gets back to Moonstruck he plants the seeds in the greenhouse he’d cleared out for them and orders the other herbs he got in a couple of empty jars up on the shelves. After that he joins Cora and Erica for the night shift and it’s fucking busy. 

Erica is sending him annoyed looks whenever new people walk in and Stiles can’t help his snicker. She punches him on the arm roughly and he winches. Fucking werewolves. The wolf does feel bad about it though, desperately clinging onto him in an attempt to apologize. He laughs, because this was definitely not the worst beating he’d had, and ruffles her hair fondly. 

Derek enters fifteen minutes before closing and Stiles feels a shudder go down his spine as their eyes meet. Things between them have settled pleasantly. He sees he was definitely not nice to Derek either at the start and in between his work shifts he saw Derek occasionally, the two of them now sharing greeting smiles and overall small talk. However with things no longer awkward or tense between them, Stiles has noticed something else creeping up inside him regarding Derek. 

Attraction.

Shit.

Derek was obviously hot. He’d thought so from the moment he first saw the wolf. But now that they’re in more contact, Stiles’ body is starting to betray him. Especially now, Derek wearing a soft grey henley marked with grease stains. It reminds Stiles of when Derek came to fix the sink, also looking like he had just recorded a plumber themed porn film. Stiles swallows, forcing himself to focus on where he’d been cleaning wine glasses instead of on Derek. 

“So, who wants beer?” Cora’s grin is almost predatory.

Derek releases a sound close to a grunt. “A lot of it.” 

So Derek’s apparently had a rough day. Stiles wonders whether he should ask, but Cora just squeezes her brother’s hand without speaking up, making him think he should probably leave it as well. A used towel gets thrown into his face then and he yelps, arms flailing, before looking at a gniffling Erica. 

He rolls his eyes, moving to glare at Erica. “Oh look at me I’m a werewolf and I use it my powers to scare the poor human.” 

“Oh shut up Stiles,” Erica moves behind him to get them all a glass, “you’re not even human so stop using that excuse.”

The snickers of laughter around them are not supportive at all and Stiles goes to glare at Cora. Derek just sits there looking amused, which is also annoying. The amused look is a good one on the man though. Shaking his head, he moves to the taps. “So, what do we all want?”

“It’s your brews now right?” Derek looks up at him. 

Of course, Derek hadn’t tasted any yet. Before Stiles can answer though, Erica suddenly jumps up in excitement, hitting him on his chest with elaborate movements. “Stiles! Is your new brew done yet?” 

Right, his cherry brew. It was the only one that hadn’t finished fermenting last week, but it might have been the one he had been most excited for. It was a new recipe, a bit of experiment. A sweet beer always does well for people that usually prefer wine, so he figured there should be enough interest for it. He realizes Erica’s right, it should probably be done about now. 

He smiles at seeing the excitement on Erica’s expression. Motioning to the back, he gives her permission. “Go get it.”

The red brew looks great inside its glass, a deep crimson colour with a thin layer of white foam on top. He bites his lip as they clink their glasses together, the sound echoing through the room, and take a sip.

Cora’s quicker than him and her nose scrunches as she swallows. The girl actually has the audacity to cough as she places the still full glass back on the bar. “Yeah, that one needs a little work Stilinski.”

His mouth falls open, the fucking nerve. “Well excuse me, but my wolfsbane brews happen to be absolute pleasures.”

He swallows down a gulp himself and the sweetness of it almost burns the enamel of his teeth. Erica snickers across from him, a mixture of pity and amusement visible in her eyes as she pours the remainder of her glass down the sink. “Yeah babes, I love cherry but this isn’t cherry.” 

“I like it.” Derek added, a small smile at his lips. Stiles feels his chest warm up at Derek coming to his defense.

“Of course you like it.” Cora snickers with a roll of her eyes. Erica snickers from beside her.

Frowning slightly, Stiles stands there, not getting the joke. Derek had a sweet tooth? Well it must be quite the big one because this stuff could burn holes through something. Sighing, he admits defeat. “It might need some tweaking.”

Cora laughs, shaking her head as she moves towards the golden taps and taps them all a pint of his lager. “I know I said not to make your next ones that good, but this is overkill Stiles.”

He slaps Cora on her shoulder, but does find himself to agree. They have a couple of beers, Stiles leaving early as he’s absolutely knackered. Erica pouts at him with displease, forcing him to promise to stay longer next time, but does hug him goodbye after Cora’s kissed his cheek. Derek seems a bit uneasy as he leaves, considering they’re not really at a hug level yet, and Stiles finds himself grinning as he does wrap his arms around the other man. 

He blames his impulses on the beer.

Walking home, he realizes he is really grateful for all these new people in his life. He’s not even worked there for three months, but he can feel all of them are slowly becoming friends. 

The apartment is quiet when he walks in, even though he knows Lydia should be home, and when he walks into the living room his heart falls in his chest when he sees Lydia is hugging her knees on the couch. 

Carefully he walks over to sit down next to her, planting his hand on her knee. She looks up from where she was hiding her face and the red rims underneath her eyes reveal she’s been crying. Seeing him is apparently a reason for it to start again as he watches the clear liquid fill back up her eyes. 

“Oh Lyds.” He opens his arms and she quickly dives onto his chest, allowing him to hold her.

He lets her cry into his shirt for a minute, before gently pushing her backwards. His eyes are worried when he looks at her. “What’s going on then?” 

Her eyes harden at his question and he mentally goes over everything he could have said wrong when he suddenly realizes what date it is. He quickly takes her back into his arms and shifts so they can lie down together. “Oh fuck Lyds I’m sorry. It was so busy at work I actually forgot.” 

“Six years today and I still fucking miss her.” Lydia’s voice cracks. 

“I know,” he kisses the top of her forehead, “we all still do.” 

Lydia releases a weak sounding breath. “I had mac and cheese and chardonnay to honour her horrible taste.”

Stiles huffs out a laugh. That had become their own little tradition. They usually built a blanket fort and spent the day that Allison died in it, eating overly cheesy macaroni with the cheapest bottle of chardonnay they could find. Because that was what Ali had proudly served them at her last birthday party. Lydia had been appalled to say the least.

And he’d fucking forgotten. He swallows. “I’m sorry for not being there today.”

“It’s okay Stiles. I know that it’s.. just a day and that forgetting is actually a good sign. Letting go of the grief and all. Moving on. But, I can’t. I still spend this day with a sore throat and all I want to do is scream. Except nothing comes out because she’s already gone.”

“I’m sorry.” He moves them up on the couch, smiling slightly. “Want me to build a blanket fort and sleep in it tonight?”

“I’d like that very much.”

Together they gather all the spare blankets and pillows they can find and Stiles takes his mattress off his bed. It’s their clumsiest fort so far, but neither of them care as they crawl inside together and share their collections of Allison memories before they fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

\--

 **Bosslady:** _Stiles sorry to be asking you, but I have a bit of a problem. Could you cover my shift tonight? No worries if you can’t_

Stiles sighs as he rubs his temples. After waking up with Lydia this morning, both of them still feeling heavy chested, he had to rush out to his morning lecture. To be honest, a shift at work wasn’t exactly what he was waiting for currently. But he knows Kiara, he knows she wouldn’t just ask without a good reason. 

Begrundetly he confirms to his boss he’ll take over. Even if his head is not really in the right space. Allison hasn’t left his mind all day. Her death day had hit him harder than expected. He still can’t believe he forgot. It’s like Lydia said though, he supposes forgetting is a good sign of moving on. It still irks him though. Makes him feel as if he isn’t honouring the life of his friend. 

He’d called Scott earlier today. To talk about Allison, about how the day was for him. Scott had struggled with the situation. Mourning his first love whilst now being engaged to his second. Of course Kira had been an absolute babe about it, because when is she not exactly that? Yet, Scott was still overwhelmed by it. By her kindness and understanding. By his own sadness. His grief. 

It made Stiles realize that he missed them both. That maybe he did want to talk to them about his old life. Their old life. Sometimes Scott was a confrontation of that life. Sometimes he was a celebration of it. Sometimes Stiles didn’t want either of those. Sometimes he wanted both. Regardless, he thinks he should go down and visit sometime soon. 

Beacon Hills had made him stand on guard at every waking moment. Still now. Though he has to say working at Moonstruck had helped. The presence of a strong pack in his life is reassuring. Even if they have no idea about his past. Maybe working tonight would actually offer him a distraction. 

He did not expect that distraction to come in the shape of Derek. The other man gives him a tentative smile as he enters, already standing polishing pint glasses behind the bar. Stiles’ muscles tighten at seeing him, his spark rising to the surface. Stiles swallows, sending Derek a tired smile before walking into the back and dropping his stuff on his desk.

He goes into the bathroom first, splashing some water onto his face in the hope it will make him focus a bit. Especially now that he’s working with Derek, with whom he’s slowly getting along more and more. 

The man in question looks up when he re enters, an expression on his face that Stiles can’t quite read. He attempts a smile. “What can I do?” 

“Not much.” Derek cocks his head to the couple in the booth. “Just them so far.” 

“Is Kiara okay?” Moving to the back of the bar, Stiles goes to filling up the soda machine.

A small sigh falls from Derek’s lips as he goes to lean against the wooden structure. The position shows off the muscles in his arm and Stiles tries not to let his eyes linger. “She’s okay. Just some pack business.”

At Stiles’ worried look, pack business never meant anything good to him, Derek continues. “Nothing bad. But she had to get to my parents for the night.” 

Stiles just nods, seems like today isn’t a good day for anyone then. He’d usually ask further, but to be honest. Today was shit and he’s tired. He hopes Derek won’t notice too much. He fills up the soda machines, does some restocking of the fridges and serves a couple of incoming customers. 

Of course Derek does notice after a while. A frown marks his face as he comes to stand next to Stiles uneasily. There seems to be a genuine worry in those light eyes. “So, umh..is everything okay? Did I do something wrong or?” 

“No, no.” Stiles is quick to scramble out the words, shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a rough day.” 

Derek nods as if he agrees, eyes tentative. “You smell sad.” 

Stiles chuckles dryly. “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to use that emotional sniffer on people?”

For a second he thinks the comment might be a bit too snarky for his and Derek’s newly blossoming friendship, but the Hale just rolls his eyes with a level of sass Stiles can only dream of possessing. “No, but she did teach me to use it to help others.”

The sass is joined by a persistent look, but there’s still gentleness in it. The air between them changes, an atmosphere of understanding taking place. Stiles bites down on his lip. It might be nice to talk about Ally with someone that didn’t know her. 

He sighs, looking in Derek’s eyes. “My friend’s death anniversary was yesterday.”

He can see Derek’s mouth falling slightly agape as he breaks their eye contact, his jaw tightening as he speaks up. “I’m sorry Stiles.” 

“You didn’t kill her.” Stiles huffs out a laugh. It sounds bitter even to his own ears.

A hand comes onto his shoulder and he looks up to see Derek’s eyes staring him down with the most gentle expression Stiles thinks he’s ever seen on the other man’s face. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be sorry.”

The air turns tense again, his spark rising up inside his chest almost electrically, as he can’t find himself to look away from Derek’s eyes. He swallows at the intensity of the look the other man is giving him. The understanding he finds in there. His spark surges forwards, making his body shudder without his consent. Derek frowns slightly, but doesn’t break the intensity of their eye contact. His shoulder feels hot where Derek’s hand is still positioned and Stiles’ eyes involuntarily flick from Derek’s eyes to the curve of his lips. When he looks back up Derek’s eyes have widened, but the care is still visible in them. 

They get interrupted by a brunette girl coming up the bar, Derek’s head snapping up as he’d apparently not noticed her coming either. To be fair, the girl looks a little guilty at having interrupted their..whatever that was.

Stiles swallows, stepping out of the intensity and going to fix the girl her drink. He can’t help but think however, that the moment with Derek felt more intimate than all of the casual sex he’s had in the last two years combined.

\--

The bottle of wine is slippery in his hand because it’s ridiculously hot out tonight and he’s having a gross moment of hand sweat. He frowns at it before looking up to see if he’s really in the right street. Number 83 Erica had said. It takes another few minutes of walking before he reaches the apartment building and he looks over the nameplates to see which bell he should ring.

A wave of blonde curls comes into his vision first as the door opens and he sputters out a laugh at how his arms are now filled with a squealing Erica. “I’m so glad you made it, Stiles!” 

He is glad he made it too. He was also glad to be invited. Apparently the wolves have two pack nights a month, a big one down at Kiara’s parents and a smaller one with everyone who lives in Sacramento. And they’d invited him as well this time. He definitely realizes what that says and he can’t help but feel all fuzzy inside at the implication.

The others are all already inside and he gets embraced with hugs and excited greetings. He also gets introduced to Boyd, who he recognizes as the bouncer from the half moon party and who is Erica’s boyfriend. He seems like a pretty mellow dude overall but he still gives Stiles a welcoming smile.

Boyd’s also apparently the cook of tonight and if the rich roasted garlic smell coming from the kitchen is any implication this food is going to rock his world. There’s an unfairly pretty guy sitting on the couch as well, with curly hair and almost fairy like features. Stiles narrows his eyes, because this guy looks like he could be fae or something. He doesn’t get much time to think it over as Cora immediately drags him onto the couch between her and Kiara and they quickly get caught up in a rather intense discussion about what movie they’re going to watch later. Stiles is all for a romcom or Mean Girls type film and Cora actually hits him for the suggestion.

Suddenly his spark flares up inside him and he looks up to see Derek’s entered the room. 

Yeah, that’s actually been happening a lot lately. Somehow his spark has gotten attuned to Derek’s presence and always pulls him into the other man’s eyes. Stiles isn’t sure what it means and he also isn’t sure if he really wants to know. Maybe his spark can sense his desperate attraction to Derek and wants to do something with it, but Stiles is glad that him and Derek are even on a sort of friend level currently. 

Derek sends him a small smile as greeting and Stiles finds himself returning it. 

“How’s Ed?” Kiara asks her brother, smiling with genuine interest.

The question makes Derek’s face morph into the softest smiling expression Stiles has ever seen on the man and god is it beautiful. He has to actively swallow and turn away in order to not let his heartbeat rise to embarrassing heights. Damn werewolves. 

“He’s good.” Derek huffs out a laugh. “That one lady that clearly likes him came by today and he’d actually been keeping a box of chocolates in the back to give to her.”

The awhsss that came out of the girls said something about how cute that was. Hell even Stiles found it cute and he didn’t even know who Ed was. But he must be someone dear to Derek to make him smile like that. 

Derek seems to notice his confusion and turns to him to explain. “Ed’s my boss at the shop.”

Stiles just nods, shamefully not even having known Derek had a different job as well, and the two of them have a second of intense eye contact before fae guy speaks up. “Is Laura coming?” 

Kiara nods from next to him and fae guy gets a pleased smile on his lips. 

Stiles grins, looking back at Kiara. “Cool, I’ve wanted to meet the famous Laura for a while now.”

Derek snickers across from him. “Just wait till you actually meet her.”

Meeting Laura was the absolute highlight of his week. 

To be fair, she looked a little bit scary at first, coming in dressed in a striped pantsuit that showed off a tiny waist and long legs with high stiletto heels underneath them. Heels with red soles as well, which made the whole picture even more intimidating. Then she immediately kicked those thousand dollar shoes off into the far end corner and sighed as she cracked her back and said she needed a fucking beer.

Her soft brown eyes met his and the brows did the thing he’s seen all the Hale eyebrows do so far. She smirked as she gave him a quick hug and Stiles couldn’t help but feel as if she was testing him, yet still wanted to make a good impression on him. She baited him with a couple of sharp, witty remarks that would make Lydia jealous and before he knew what was happening they were pleasantly snarking back and forth. She is genuinely one of the funniest people Stiles thinks he’s ever met. They spent the rest of the evening cracking jokes and making fun of everyone. The rest of the group did not seem all too excited about this development.

“And then Derek actually took off his pants and I kid you not, ran after the group of squirrels with such passion.” Laura grins dangerously, laughter hearable in her voice. “Not a single teacher knew what to do.” 

A thud is heard from under the table and Laura just snickers at what Stiles guesses was Derek kicking her knee before moving to squeeze her brother’s cheek.

“I was five years old Laura,” Derek’s tone is defensive and it just makes Stiles snicker, earning him an annoyed look. Then Derek sighs, shaking his head as he takes another bite from the stew. “Why do you always tell this story?”

Stiles can’t help his smirk and he can see Kiara rolling her eyes across from him. He does decide to follow Derek’s example and take a bite, he hadn’t been sure if he was fit to eat yet considering the pack dynamics but apparently there were none considering the alpha wasn’t present. As soon as the rich flavours hit his tongue he can’t help the moan like sound that comes over him, jesus that’s good. 

Derek sends him a seemingly distrubed look from across the table and the rest of the table seems to laugh at a joke Stiles is apparently missing. His cheeks turn red. “Sorry..it’s just so good. Jesus Boyd you could open a restaurant.”

“I’ve been begging him to cater for us sometime but no gives.” Kiara pouts unhappily, moving to squeeze Boyd’s shoulder.

Boyd remains a neutral expression. “It’s a hobby. It needs to stay fun.”

“You’re no fun,” Cora sticks out her tongue as she moves to pour herself another glass of wine. She tops his off too and he gives her a wink.

They watch _One flew over the cuckoo’s nest_ after dinner and when Stiles gets a little sad after Billy’s death there’s immediately four pairs of hands on him. He huffs out a smile. Damn werewolves. Kiara sends him a wavering smile, her wet eyes revealing she too found it hard to watch. Laura just sends him an unimpressed look and he flips her off. She cackles at that.

It’s strange how easy this all feels. How comfortable. I mean, here he is in the apartment of Erica and Boyd. sitting on the couch with Laura, who he met literal hours ago, sprawled out over his right side, Cora between his legs and..Derek pressed up against his other side.

Their legs have been coyly touching the entire film and Stiles has had to focus to not let his body or hormones react. Stupid werewolves and their sniffers. Derek’s been stoically watching the screen the entire time but does catch his eye now, a careful smile at his lips. Stiles swallows at the sight of it, before quickly turning back to the movie. 

Getting a boner from a smile alone would be embarrassing enough. But to do so in a room full of werewolves would be mortifying. 

\--

It’s chillier out than he expected it to be and he notices his leg is starting to tap onto the pavement in a mixture of his ADHD and an attempt to keep warm. Which makes sense, considering he’s been waiting in the parking lot for quite a bit now. Kiara was supposed to pick him up ten minutes ago to head off to the brewery together, not that he cared if she was a little later, and he pulls out his phone to attempt to fight off a bit of the boredom. He sees Kiara texted him, probably telling him she’d be late, and he frowns when the text says sometimes else instead.

 **Bosslady:** _I can’t make it today Stiles, sorry. Someone else will be coming to pick you up tho, don’t worry. They should be there in 10_

Kiara was not coming? Well, there goes the great Kiara and Stiles roadtrip he’d planned. He’d even made them a playlist, considering they both have a thing for eighties pop. It had Rick James and The Beach boys on it, so she would definitely be missing out. And why was she so vague about who was picking him up? It was either Erica or Cora probably, maybe Laura even, and they better appreciate the atmosphere he was going for because there is no way in hell he was making the two hour drive without jamming to his sweet music. 

He looks up from his phone when he hears a car pull up and his eyes widen at the flashy camaro that drives onto the lot. He tries to suppress the rush of nerves he feels at seeing Derek behind the wheel. Considering their last conversation, he’s pretty sure this is Kiara’s way of making him and Derek bond. Road trip style. 

She’s such a meddler. Actually, maybe it was Laura’s idea then. He should slip some mistletoe into both their drinks next time. To be sure.

Derek looks equally pleased at the thought of being in a tiny enclosed space with Stiles and cocks his head to indicate Stiles should get in already. Worming himself into the passenger seat he drops his backpack between his feet. Derek says nothing as he pulls into reserve and drives towards the highway.

Okay. One minute inside and it’s already slightly awkward. But he can fix that! It’s a two hour drive so there’s plenty of time for Stiles to not think sexy thoughts about Derek and to actually bond. Maybe he won’t poison the Hale sisters. 

“So, Kiara got caught up?” It’s a better greeting than none.

“She said it was a family emergency,” Derek sighs, sending Stiles an exasperated look, “which is a stupid excuse to use to someone whose also part of that family.” 

Stiles can’t help the laugh that splutters out of him and he can see the corners of Derek’s lips rising as well. Yet, it does confirm his theory. Kiara definitely arranged this on purpose. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. 

“Well, we’ll just have so much fun she’ll wish she had gone instead.” Stiles grins, moving his hand to where he sees an AUX cord bungling from the radio. 

He yelps when Derek swats at his hand. Scandalized, he looks at Derek with a gasp. Derek rolls his eyes but fixes him with a steady glare. “Who said you could touch the radio?” 

“Jeez, touchy much Sourwolf?” Stiles huffs out a breath before defending himself. “I happen to have compiled an excellent road trip playlist.” 

Derek doesn’t look impressed or excited at the prospect. “What is it?” 

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles looks over at where Derek sits behind the wheel - trying to see if pop would either please or horrify the man. With the whole stubble and leather jacket thing you’d think Derek would be into rock, but maybe he was actually more of a Harry Styles kind of rock person which is also similar to the eighties pop so then it would go over well.

Derek’s eyebrows do an inquisitive furrowing thing and Stiles can’t help but damn the Hale family’s eyebrows. First Kiara, now Derek. How can two stripes of hair convey so many emotions? 

“It might be pop.” He goes for a casual tone but even he can hear it’s not completely successful. 

“What kind of pop?” Derek looks pensive.

“Oh my god, it’s just music Derek. I promise if it does indeed scar you like you’re acting it will, that I will gladly cover the damage.” He grabs the cable back with an air of defiance and plugs it into his phone before opening spotify.

“Can you cover emotional trauma too?” Derek deadpans. “Because I think this car ride might do that to me.”

Stiles sends him an unimpressed frown. “I promise it won’t do more damage than your sense of humour will do to me.”

“Right, cause that is true comedy right here.” 

Stiles hadn’t known there was this much sass in this man. In this DerBear. He scoffs. “I am known to be the absolute epitome of comedy, yes.” 

“By who? Your pet fish from when you were five?” Derek looks way too pleased with himself and the way his lip is curled upwards is both annoying and attractive.

“I didn’t even have a fish.” Stiles hates that he’s biting this much, but he can’t help but feel the need to defend himself. “In fact the only pets I had were a couple of bugs in my self made bug hospital.”

Derek actually physically turns to look at him then, wearing a judgemental look. “I should have known you were a weird kid.” 

“At least I didn’t chase squirrels butt naked.” Stiles feels like sticking out his tongue, satisfied he has won this childish battle. To make sure he wins, he quickly presses play on the first song on his playlist. Eighties tunes fill the car, Prince kicking off with electric guitars. 

Derek definitely caught on to his tactic, but doesn’t comment on it. The corners of his lips are upturned just slightly, which Stiles thinks looks good on him. 

They reach the brewery a bit more than an hour later. Kiara had been in contact with the guy in order to get Stiles some better equipment and the guy had invited them up for a tour and tasting. Which Stiles would not say no too. 

_Kelsey Creek Brewery_ was near the clear lake in Northern California and Stiles almost jumped out of the car with excitement as he spotted the wooden sign hanging from the tall building. The street was filled with dark pink lamp posts with what looked like actual oil lamps pointing up at the sky, an American flag planted into the curb next to them. The wooden oak floor is covered in peanut shells when they enter and soft joyful blues fills up the room. 

The tour turned out to be a little shorter than Stiles expected, Derek mumbling something under his breath about why the hell they made them drive up here, but the guy showing them around is nice enough. His name tag says he’s Terry and Terry shows them how their brewery functions. It’s not a big brewery, but in comparison to Moonstruck it was impressively functioning. Stiles stares with interest at the bronze vats containing their beers and reckons they should order some of those as well, considering they have built in cooling systems that automatically manage the beer’s temperature. There’s also extra filters in there, which would allow him to experiment more with texture. 

Terry seems pleased at the order and goes to have them taste some of the local brews. _Black Fedora_ is Stiles’ favourite, whereas Derek prefers the _Irish Donkey._ Jokes were most definitely made about that. The beers keep coming and Stiles thinks he shouldn’t at first but then Derek reminds him he can’t get drunk anyway, so he can drive. Terry doesn’t know that though and a slightly judgemental look comes over the other man’s face as they both have five glasses each. 

As they go to leave Stiles stops in his tracks, eyeing Derek’s flashy stupid sport car and eyeing the place where Terry is packing up their new equipment. He goes to glare at Derek, clasping his hands together with a satisfactory sound and taking on a questioning tone. “Say, DerBear,”

Derek’s brows furrow at the nickname and he already goes to glare at Stiles like this is going to be an inconvenience. Which, rude. 

“How did you think we could bring the stuff home in your I-have-a-small-dick car?” 

The sigh that falls from Derek’s lips is almost comical. He fixes Stiles down with a leveled stare. “They’ll ship it. Already arranged. You just had to approve the goods with me.”

Stiles sputters out a laugh at the accidental innuendo. “I’d always approve your goods Derek.”

Derek looks as if he’s torn between releasing another sigh or blushing. It’s strangely adorable. Stiles just smirks, because he enjoys being a bit of a shit starter. Stepping towards the car, he looks over his shoulder. “Wanna head back?” 

Shrugging, Derek suddenly looks a bit shy as he stands there. Not really looking Stiles in the eye. “Actually, I thought maybe we could head towards the lake first. It’s supposed to be nice..”

A warm feeling comes over his chest as he looks at Derek. He smiles. “Sounds great to me.” 

Derek just nods stoically, but Stiles can see the relief in his eyes. They climb into the camaro, Derek looking over his shoulder before pulling into reverse and heading back down the road. Stiles’ fingers are tapping on his knees as he watches houses flash them by before making space for impressive mountains covered in stretches of green. 

Pulling into a parking lot and grabbing them a ticket out of the machine, Derek finds a spot to fit the camaro and Stiles exits excitedly. Mouth falling open slightly when he sees the enormous stretch of water in front of them. It’s really pretty actually, with the sun creating patterns amongst the surface and the outlines of two hills visible on the other side. 

Derek steps out in front of him, leather jacket creaking amongst his shoulders - yes, Derek was wearing a leather jacket today. As if Stiles’ attraction to the whole scruffy looking bad boy hadn’t previously been confirmed yet. Stiles stumbles as he goes to keep up with Derek’s big strides. “I read somewhere that clear lake is supposed to be the oldest lake in the States. Or just in California, I can’t remember. Anyway, it’s old.” 

Derek archs an amused brow but doesn’t seem to find Stiles’ facts worthy of much more of a response, instead pointing towards the building up on the shore. It’s a cabin like structure, made up of wooden pallets with several terraces out front, and it looks to be something like a café.

“Food.” Stiles grins. “Yeah, I could do food.” 

The amused eyebrow is back and Stiles is starting to think it’s the only form of communication he’ll be getting today.

The restaurant is pretty oddly decorated, a mixture of a woods and beach vibe - which is not an aesthetic Stiles himself would have gone for. The walls are filled with logs and hunting trophies, hinting to the woods behind them, but then the bar is made out of surfboards with seashells attached. The place looks as if the owners had an argument about what theme they wanted and decided to just do both in the end. They sit down at a table next to the window, allowing them to stare out at where people are windsurfing up on the lake.

A woman in her late thirties introduces herself as Sandy and comes to take their drink order, wearing a plaid shirt with a hawaiian flower necklace over it. Yeah, Stiles just doesn’t get it.

“This place stinks.” 

Stiles is glad Derek said it, because he hadn’t wanted to be a negative nancy but this place does stink. He slaps his hand on the table in agreement. “I know right? Like pick a vibe. Lumberjacks don’t surf. Or maybe they do, but not still dressed in their camo boots. That’s just weird.” 

Derek huffs out a breath Stiles thinks is a laugh as he shakes his head. “I meant literally. It smells like piss.” Derek scrunches his nose in a way that shouldn’t be adorable, but is.

Stiles laughs then, feeling slightly embarrassed about his decor ramlings now. He looks back up at Derek, grinning. “Sometimes I’m thankful to just be a plain human.” 

“Not that plain.” Derek’s eyes widen as he realizes what he said and a blush colours his cheeks red as he attempts to correct himself. “I mean, you’re a spark.”

“True.” there’s a satisfied smirk on his lips. “But that’s more of a body thing than a nose thing thankfully.” 

Derek looks interested now, eyebrows moving as to signal for him to continue.

Stiles shrugs, never really knowing how to explain it to others. His spark feels like this other presence in his body, with its own mind and intentions, but it also feels like a part of him. He can control it, but sometimes it feels like he has two sets of brains. He’s in control of both, but they function differently. 

“Well it’s more of a pull? Like my body knows where the herbs are and then my brain just pops in with the name and number and all that jazz.” He makes a flicky motion with his hands to attempt to illustrate, but yeah how do you illustrate a pull? 

“You can tell anything?” 

“Not everything. My mentor described it as being able to feel the magic in things like wolfsbane and mountain ash and being able to bend that magic. It can be useful, but it’s not as magical as it sounds. I can’t make things levitate or heal or anything.” He huffs out a breath.

“Still magical.” There’s an impressed gleam in Derek’s eyes now and Stiles ducks his head. His spark is excited underneath his skin, sending pleased sparkles through his arms.

“Werewolves are magical too.” 

Derek tilts his head as he thinks the statement over. “True I suppose. Though it’s never felt like magic to me, I’m just..me.”

Stiles nods, understanding that. He supposes that’s what it’s like for born wolves. Growing up with your powers, with an understanding of what you are and with a support system within your family. The magic is a part of you then, instead of just popping up randomly. Or violently, his mind adds. He licks his lips. “It’s different when you’re bitten I think. My friend Scott was bitten and well, it wasn’t just him being him so to say.” 

“When was he bitten?” Derek adjusts his position on the booth, eyes earnest as they look at Stiles. 

“We were sixteen I believe. Yeah, sixteen. Crazy rogue alpha and the wrong place and time. It was a bit of a struggle but we made it through.” 

There’s an actually worried expression on Derek’s face now. “He didn’t have an alpha?” 

“Nope, just me and him against the world.” Stiles grins, it had been the moment that changed their lives forever but it somehow also felt like a fond memory now. Them figuring everything out together, the nights of research and the hiding from the Argents. None of it was fun and a lot of it still haunted him, especially Gerard, but it did make his bond with Scott irreplaceably strong. 

Derek doesn’t seem to think it’s something to be fond of. He breathes out through his teeth. “Jesus Stiles. There wasn’t anyone who could help you?” 

Stiles shrugs. “There was my mentor, he’s a druid. But he is also kind of a secretive prick, so yeah it was mostly me. But hey, don’t look so sad we turned out fine. Scotty’s an alpha now and has a small pack and I moved up here with Lyds.”

“I didn’t mean to judge.” Derek’s eyes are apologetic and Stiles feels a fondness rise up inside his chest. “It just sounds like a lot for two, well, kids.” 

“Don’t think we were kids anymore by then. It made us grow up pretty fast.” Stiles bites his lip as a darker path of memories flash through his mind and he shakes his head. When did this conversation turn into a melodrama? Plastering on a wide smile, he looks up at Derek again. “What about you? What’s your pack like?”

Derek frowns, clearly picking up on his sudden changing of subject but he doesn’t press further, shrugging instead. “Well you’ve met most of them. Erica, Isaac and Boyd are the only ones not family, but they’ve been with us for a long time.”

“And you’re all-” Stiles thankfully swallows the rest of his question as Sandy is now standing next to them carrying their drink orders and kindly smiling as she asks them what food they’d like. Stiles goes for a tuna melt sandwich, whereas Derek orders a caesar salad. Boring alert. 

Derek grins and answers his question regardless. “My dad and my cousin aren’t.”

Stiles’ brows rise, finding that interesting. Obviously he knew a werewolf and human could have werewolf children, he’s done extensive research into werewolf reproduction don’t judge him, but four out of four makes it seems like the wolf gene is pretty dominant. Derek arches a brow at his silence and Stiles quickly smiles. “Cool. Having a big pack always seemed cool to me.”

“It’s the worst.” Derek sighs and soon they’re enjoying their meals over a conversation filled with stories of the meddling Hale sisters and Derek’s apparently crazy uncle Peter. Derek is pretending to hate the man, but despite him sounding..well odd to say the least Stiles can see the clear adoration in Derek’s eyes. It’s almost contagious.

They arrive back in Sacramento a few hours later and the air between them turns tense as Derek stops the car in front of Stiles’ apartment building. A rush goes through Stiles’ stomach and he can’t help but think that today felt kind of like a date. He knew it wasn’t. He knew it would probably never be, but still it had felt like that. Looking up, he finds Derek’s eyes already on his. Stiles has to swallow at the way that makes his body react, his spark reaching out and his pants sitting tighter. Blushing now, he goes for a small smile. “Thanks for today Derek, I had fun.” 

“I did too.” Derek keeps his gaze on Stiles, doing nothing for the problem arising in Stiles’ downstairs area. Desire pooling into his stomach. For a brief second he thinks he can see Derek’s eyes flicking to his lips, but he’s sure he’s imagined that. 

Stiles bites his lip, quickly looking down before things get awkward. Derek’s his coworker and the brother of his employer. Not someone he should be thinking about this way. He grabs his bag from in between his legs and gets out of the car, huffing out a pathetic sounding bye as he rushes inside. 

Well fuck.

He’d known he found Derek ridiculously attractive. They’d had moments like these before. The intense eye contact. Stiles’ body and spark reacting to his presence. But since their last bar shift it had turned more..intimate. Today, spending the entire afternoon and evening together, actually talking. Yeah, it did something to him. 

Okay so he might, just might, have a little bit of a crush on Derek. Just a tiny one. God, he hasn’t had a crush since Lydia. He forgot how embarrassing it felt. 

Shaking his head, he stumbles up the stairs into the apartment. His keys struggle with opening their front door and damn, he’s all jittery. Ugh, he hates having a crush. Stepping inside, he can see Lydia’s bedroom light is still on. He swings open the door without thinking, needing to vent about his discovered feelings.

His voice is close to a whine as he goes to hang dramatically on her doorpost. “I think I have a crush on Derek.” 

Lydia snickers from inside her bed and as he opens his eyes he sees why. Jordan’s next to her, looking at him with laughter in his eyes. Both of them are propped up against the collection of pillows Lydia has against her headboard, her shiny silk sheets covering their bare bodies. 

“Oh hi Jordan.” 

Lydia snickers at his awkwardness, shaking her head almost mockingly. Stiles wants to flip her off, but does feel a little bad for interrupting her..date.

Jordan doesn’t seem to mind much though, just grinning. “No I get it, Derek’s a hot dude.” 

Stiles arches his brow. Is Jordan a fellow member of the I put the Bi in Bitch club? So far he only knows himself and Cora. If Jordan’s a member too, they could actually start having meetings. That’d be cool. But maybe this was just a no homo comment except Jordan forgot the no homo. Lydia doesn’t seem worried about it, laughing effortlessly, whatever it might be. 

“Right,” Stiles spins on his heels, “this day has reached its maximum awkwardness capacity for me so I think it is time I hit the sack. Enjoy the sex my loves. But not too loudly please, I have a nine am.” 

He hears snorts from behind him as he walks away and is glad at least someone thinks it’s funny.

\--

Stiles sneezed at the yellow power covering his fingertips. He fucking hated using yarrow, but it was a good stimulant ingriedient to balance out mistletoe. Mistletoe was something he’d never used in a drink before, considering it could be pretty deadly - sorry not sorry Jennifer -, but Hayden had used it in one of her special shots. He knew it could be okay and something inside him just wanted to try.

Now that he had the space and a good reason to try, he figured he should. His eyes move to the vat his cherry brew 2.0 is currently brewing in. He'd just tossed the whole last batch out and hoped the new batch should be better. The polish wolfsbane should give it a more sour taste and he’d added significantly less sugar this time. 

Erica’s leaning over the bar chatting to Boyd when he enters the front. She sends him a devilish smirk over her shoulder and Boyd waves his hand up in greeting from where he’s sat having a beer. Stiles recognizes it as his pale ale. 

“Hey Boyd. What’s up?” Stiles moves fluently behind the bar, cracking a couple of joints in his neck as he readies himself for a night of work.

“Nothing much, just waiting for Kiara to finish in the back so I know what time I should be here next saturday.” 

Crouching down on the floor, he moves to pull the crate of coca cola bottles out from underneath the cabinets. “What’s next saturday?” 

Erica gasps audibly, jumping up from her position at the bar in favour of going to slap excitedly at his back. He swats her hands away, but can’t help but chuckle as he stands up and sees the sparkle in her eyes.

She glares at him like he’s an idiot, but there’s a fond form of thrill in her eyes. “Halloween duh! We always have a big bash down here.” 

“Fuck yes.” A wide smile falls onto his lips. He fucking loves Halloween. Dressing up, getting drunk, kissing strangers and candy. So much candy. What’s not to love? But wow, Halloween coming up means he's been working here for at least four months now, maybe even five. It felt like way shorter.

“Kiara’s working out the schedule and promotion,” Erica goes to grin dangerously, “but I am in charge of the theme.”

“I thought the whole thing about Halloween was that you could be whoever you want.” Stiles teases.

Boyd chuckles over the edge of his beer. “Good luck telling her that. She’s already made a costume list for all of you.” 

“Shut up Vernon.” Erica sticks out her tongue at her boyfriend, who just scoffs before rolling his eyes.

A chuckle falls from his lips but he raises his brows inquisitively. “A list huh? What have you written down for me?”

“Well Batman,” Erica chuckles, “I figured we could do our nicknames some justice.”

The happy spike he felt at those words was almost embarrassing. 

He splutters out a laugh before winking the blonde’s way. “If you want to see me in tights you should have just said so Erica.” 

“I’m not the one who wants to see you in them.” Erica grins mysteriously and Stiles frowns, not getting her meaning, when Cora walks into the front door sending them an exasperated look. 

“There is no way in hell I’m dressing up as a nerd’s biggest wet dream.” She shrugs off her leather jacket, a Hale family uniform apparently, as she moves onto the stool next to Boyd and sharing an amused look with him.

Moving his hand over his heart exaggeratedly, Stiles retaliates. “But Cora how will I ever be able to come again if I don’t get to see you dressed up as wonderwoman?” 

The disgusted sounds falling off Cora’s and Boyd’s lips make him snort, whereas Erica just cackles, tapping her hands down on his shoulder with wide eyes. “I did have her written down as wonderwoman!”

Stiles laughs at Cora’s still displeased expression and he can see her opening her mouth to comment when Kiara walks in from the back, sending them all an amused frown before shaking her head. “Okay kids, let’s all calm down and get to work.”

\--

Next saturday came quick. Stiles was incredibly excited, having spent the last week texting with Erica about their costumes and picking out the most realistic ones, and had also invited the Beacon Hills pack over.

It’s still funny to him to call it a pack when it’s really only Scott, Kira, Liam and Mason. They had been with more of course, but..no, he’s not going to think about that today. He’d also invited Danny, finding himself to regret the lack of effort he’d put into that friendship. Parrish and Lydia would probably show up as well. 

He stumbles as he’s attempting to pull the tight trousers over his arse. Jesus, how do women do this on a daily basis? His struggles might have something to do with the fact he’s changing in the staff toilet, which is not a spacious room to start with. His elbow has hit the stupid picture frame on the wall at least four times now. He sighs as he finally zips up the batman costume and exists out of the bathroom.

Erica wolf whistles as he walks into the bar. “Jeez my Batman, you clean up nice.” 

He could say much the same of her catwoman costume, the tight bodysuit wrapping around all her curves. A utility belt sitting around her waist. Stiles smirks as he notices Erica hasn’t zipped up her costume all the way, instead showing off a cleavage he doesn’t exactly remember catwoman having. It’s a signature Erica look though, including the smirking red lips. He yelps when someone squeezes his butt and turns to see a grinning Cora.

They hadn’t been able to push the wonderwoman costume through, not too sure why Cora was so against it though - wonderwoman was awesome and also fitted her physique - but she’d gone as Storm instead. Which Stiles was not hating, because damn.

And to be fair, her personality was most definitely stormy.

“Look at you Cora! My god!” He all but splutters the words out. 

“Shut up Stilinski.” She hits him on his chest in seemingly an annoyed fashion, but he can see her cheeks heating up despite her casual attitude. 

They look up at Kiara walking in, carrying a tray of shot glasses inside (three purple, one blue), and Stiles beams at seeing her. Erica and him had picked, most fittingly, Captain Marvel for her and she rocked the shit out of the lilac bodysuit. The ashy blonde colour of her hair working well with the character.

“We’ll do one shot tonight and then no drinking before midnight okay?” Erica pouts from next to him but Kiara looks at them sternly. “I want you sharp. It’s going to be a full house.”

The sambuca shot burns in his throat, but the anise flavor dampens its bite. He beams at watching the three girls around him, silently thanking god for bringing these people into his life. Despite the short time he’s been here, he can honestly say they have become extremely important to him. Real friends. His emotions must come into the air because Cora catches his eye, looking at him with a small, genuine smile. 

Erica screams out from next to him, wrapping the four of them up in a tight hold. “Let’s go bitches.”

Prep work had never been his favourite thing to do. Cocktails should be made fresh in his opinion. He understood why Kiara made them premix though. Apparently the Moonstruck Halloween party was known to every supernatural in the area. Pouring gin into a large empty lemonade tap, he goes to prepare the beta moon. Cora’s restocking the fridge next to him and rolls her eyes at where Erica is chatting away with Boyd, who’s going to play bouncer for them tonight.

“Just us five tonight?” Stiles pretends he’s asking for the pub’s sake, no other intentions.

Erica doesn’t seem to buy his motives, instead looking at him with wiggling eyebrows. “Don’t worry Stiles, Derek will join us sometime tonight.”

If his cheeks heat up, he pretends not to notice. They open half an hour later, Stiles surprised to find there was already a line forming outside. Shit, this was going to be a hell of a night. 

It was. He feels like he didn’t get even a second of breathing time, constantly running around taking orders and tapping beers and pouring cocktails. Customers were laughing, eager to chat and all the tables had been cleared out so they could dance. The place was packed tight and if what he heard was any judgement there were still people waiting outside. He was moving faster than he ever had, his hand constantly curled up in the shape of a pint glass. All of them were working their ass off and Kiara came next to him and sighed, quickly pouring both of them a shot. 

He looked at her with raised brows. “What about needing to be sharp?”

Kiara scoffs, looking at him with a tired look. “Fuck that.”

Laughing, they take the shot together. Both immediately having customers to serve after. Handing a brunette wolf, eyes marked by a ring of gold, her drink he moves on to the next person waiting at the bar.

The smile that gets onto his face almost splits his face in half. “Danny!” 

“Heya Stiles, thanks for the invite.” Dimples. All he can see are Danny’s dimples, still as adorable as ever.

He rushes away from behind the bar, almost jumping on top of Danny. Who blessed his heart had dressed up as nightwing. He never knew Danny liked comics all that much, but then again their high school had had an aversion to anything not popular. 

Danny looks equally pleased to see him, laughing as he pats Stiles’ on his back. “I can’t believe you came!” 

"Well I mostly live on Hawaii now, but I was in the area so figured I could make an extra stop.” 

All Stiles wants to do is catch up, but he knows he can’t be away from the bar for too long. “I’m so glad you did, Danny. How long will you be in town?” 

“Not long enough to waste time on hanging out with you, Stilinski.” A way too familiar voice suddenly says from behind Danny, arms wrapping around the other man’s waist possessively. “It’s our holiday. And fuck you for not inviting me.”

The laugh that splutters out of Stiles is probably way too loud for the occasion. “Jackson!” 

If you’d told sixteen year old Stiles that he’d one day be hugging Jackson Whittemore, he probably wouldn’t have believed you. But times changed. People changed. 

Or maybe Jackson not as much, as he scowled and pushed Stiles off. “Fuck off Stilinski.”

He couldn’t help his grin, but quickly waved them goodbye at hearing Cora call him in. Moving back behind the bar, he was scared out of his mind at Derek suddenly being there. The other man grinned at his reaction, but moved aside to let Stiles get to his work. 

He tried not to look at Derek, but that was not an easy task. As he went to pour a clearly drunk girl a glass of wine, he couldn’t help but sneak a look out of the corner of his eye. Whilst Stiles had pledged loyalty to DC, Derek was the best Captain America he’d ever seen. Jesus, the way that suit wrapped around the other man’s muscles. Steve Rogers could eat dirt.

Cursing, he notices the wine is spilling over. Serves him right. Stop staring at Derek. 

That is, if Derek doesn’t come up into his space. The other man moves against him, Stiles noticing he’s definitely closer than usual, and frowns at Stiles. His eyes are fixed on where Danny and Jackson are dancing though. “What’s your friend?” 

Stiles grins. Yeah, that was a hell of a story. He looks up at Derek, whose eyes are expectant. “Former Kanima.” 

Derek turns at that, eyes wide, and going to stare at Jackson with intrigue. Jackson, of course, stares right back. Sporting a scowl even Derek can’t compete with. Stiles snickers. “Just ignore him, his bite is not even a quarter of his bark and I could know. Right Jackson?”

The middle finger sent his way just makes him cackle but Derek still looks confused. Stiles wants to go explain when a customer comes in between and the rest of the evening is spent in a haze of lemon quarters, melting ice cubes, blocked soda machines and kegs that need changing. 

\--

Derek never minds getting behind the bar to help Kiara. He knows it’s hard to find loyal and trustworthy staff for her. You can’t just hire a human, nor can you trust every wolf you find. Most of them are pack. It makes it easier. So on busy nights, Derek has no issue stepping in. Working behind the bar is actually pretty nice. 

But he fucking hated the Halloween party. It wasn’t the first time he’d helped out and he never got away with not wearing one of these stupid themed constumes. He hated dressing up, especially when forced into it by a certain blonde beta. 

Though this year, he might not mind as much. The curve of Stiles’ back keeps on calling him with the tight spandex stretched over that round shape. Derek’s throat had tightened at the look of it. 

Not that he didn’t usually experience that. His attraction to Stiles was obvious to anyone with eyes. There was just something that pulled him towards him, that needed him to be near him. And he had enjoyed getting to know Stiles lately. With their drive up to the clear lake and the time they’d been spending together these past few weeks, Derek ended up spending a lot of time thinking about the spark. 

And now he’s given another thing to think about. God, Derek can’t take his eyes off how ridiculously good Stiles looks tonight, with his hair all messed up and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. He smells so fucking good as well, like whiskey and cinnamon and laughter. He smells content. 

All Derek wants to do is walk over and rub his nose into that lean neck and make the other man smell like him as well. And only like him.

Not like the what..six..other wolves that are currently hovering around Stiles. Well, he’s still not too sure of what that Asian girl is exactly, but oh well. It’s Stiles’ pack, that much is obvious, and their presence is bringing out a weird feeling inside Derek’s chest. A sort of annoyed emptiness, but also a desperation to look good and impressive and like a good provider and oh fuck..

Groaning, he turns his eyes away from where Stiles is talking animatedly to his group of friends. He really needed to get his instincts under control here, before he’d just barge over and rub himself all over Stiles’ freckled skin. A group of four giggling wolves order a round of shots and Derek’s glad for the distraction as he pours them an overly sweet drink. And another for the gross couple. And then a beer for the balding guy on the other side.

Two arms wrap around his waist familiarly, squeezing down against his stomach, and his wolf purrs in content at the whiff of pack. Laura grins as she moves next to him. “Need some help?” He smiles, but releases a sigh as he hands Laura a bottle of gin.

The last guests leave around four am. All the staff releases a simultaneous sigh and the sound of people cracking their sore backs fills up the room. Derek eyes where Kiara lets herself fall down onto a bar stool and walks over to squeeze her shoulder. “It went great Kiara.”

“I know,” she beams, eyes wide and happy, “thanks for coming to help Der.” 

“Of course,” he moves in, kissing the top of his sister’s head, “should we do the counting?”

“Hell no.” Kiara groans just at the thought, before she smirks and places a bottle of tequila on the bar. “It’s our turn now.” 

All staff cheers and soon everyone has a drink in their hand. Parrish and that one redheaded friend of Stiles stayed too, as well as the alpha and his girlfriend. Who’s a kitsune apparently, which she explains with small smiles and elaborate movements. Her lips constantly curled around the pink straw of her gin and tonic. She’s a lovely girl and Derek can honestly say he’s having a lot of fun tonight.

There’s a pleasant atmosphere, reminding him of when he’d sneak out of their house with Laura to go to that first bar Kiara worked at. Secretly getting drunk on wolfsbane in the back. A teenage form of thrill and defiance. 

He’s been drinking Stiles’ beers all night and damn, they definitely pack a punch. A punch you can’t even taste. It’s like that alpha had said, you can’t even taste anything apart from just a regular beer. Which is why Derek’s been gulping them down just a bit too easily.

Derek was never a dancer. Everybody knew this. But the pack still forced him. Erica dances with him for a bit, moving her hips against his, and Isaac grins as he frolics around them. Cora comes to twirl in his arms and even Kira, the kitsune, comes over to his side. There’s only really one person Derek himself is focused on though.

God, it’s as if there’s an electric cord wrapped around his chest and whenever Stiles is near it just goes off. It feels like more than his usual wolf instincts. It’s..stronger somehow. Stiles looks gorgeous tonight, laughing elaborately with his friends. Eyes big and mischievous as he dances with Laura. Costume zipped down a little because of the heath. 

Their eyes meet across from the dance floor and despite his wolf whining inside him, Derek just goes for a casual smile. 

Stiles doesn’t smile back though, instead moving to cross through their friends towards him. His eyes drop down Derek’s body before he takes Derek’s hand and twirls him around to the music. Derek wants to laugh because of how silly the move is, but instead finds himself face to face with the spark. Whose eyes are intense. That electric feeling returning.

Stiles bites his lip, which is something Derek would very much like to do as well, before he goes to tiptoe and whisper into Derek’s ear. “You make a great Captain.”

The hot breath of Stiles' on his ear is nearly enough for Derek to harden. Especially with the appreciative gleam visible in Stiles’ eyes. Derek can’t help but swallow. They dance together, mostly Stiles leading. It brings their bodies closer than usual, Stiles' scent filling up Derek's nose, and a shudder goes down his spine when Stiles moves a hand down Derek’s arms, placing them on the curve of his own hips.

Derek swallows, throat tight with want, and looks up into Stiles’ heated eyes. “Stiles-”

Whatever would have happened gets interrupted by a clearly intoxicated Scott coming in between them, a serious frown marking his fact before he grumbles out an apology as he steals Stiles away. Derek swallows, his body is still tight from the moment, as Stiles sends him a remorseful look over his shoulder.

As Derek goes to sleep that night he dreams of pale skin, laughter dipped in whiskey, biting kisses and being touched by long, thin fingers. He wakes up as hard as a rock.


	4. the place of connections

Ed’s presses roughly on the faded start button of the microwave before the machine releases a single beep and lights up, illuminating the large silver buckle’s on Ed’s studded belt. A quick sniff reveals that Ed is heating up some type of curry leftover, the aroma of kerrie strong in the air. 

Derek’s brows rise despite himself and he walks further into the room, sitting down to switch out his heavy steel nosed shoes for his beat down nikes. “Since when do you cook?” 

Ed shrugs, a blush taking position on his cheeks, and moves to get a canned beer out of their fridge. “Moira made it for me.” 

Derek can’t help his smirk. Ed and Moira had actually gone on a couple of dates the past month and Derek knew Ed was actually liking her very much. Not that the man would admit it himself. “Did she now?” 

“Apparently there’s cauliflower in it.” Ed’s nose scrunches as he rolls up the sleeves of his Rolling Stones tour shirt, embarrassed eyes meeting Derek’s. “She says I should eat more vegetables.”

“You should.” Derek smirks as Ed huffs out an offended scoff. “Sounds like she’s taking good care of you then.”

“Get that dumb smile off your face, son.” Ed sends a sharp look his way. “She’s a special lady, but there ain’t nothing happening yet.”

“If that’s what you want to believe.” 

Ed sends him a leveling look, attempting to pull the I’m older and therefore wiser than you card, before sighing and pointing over his shoulder to the microwave, which has about seventy seconds left on the counter. “Well, do you want some? There’s plenty.”

“Sure.” Derek smiles fondly as he moves to sit down. The microwave beeps and a minute later Ed is dividing the contents of the tupperware container over two plates. It smells nice and Derek quickly detects Moira’s a pretty decent cook, with rich flavour of ginger and bay leaves making up the curry. They chat about life, both rewinding from their work day, until they hear loud knocking on the shop's front door. 

Ed sends Derek an annoyed glare, some curry paste sticking to the hairs of his moustache. “What do people think a closed door means?”

Normally Derek would agree and would never really be inclined to open the door for a late customer. Except he recognized his scent. Stiles was in front of their door. His wolf howls inside him. 

He quickly stood up, abandoning his curry, and Ed sighs in annoyance. Shouting after Derek. “It’s your problem if you open son, I’m finishing my dinner and then going home for a fucking nap.”

But Derek does open, noticing it had started to rain outside, and Stiles is looking at him with confused eyes as the door swings away from him. Tiny waterdrops are sticking to his eyelashes, glinting in the moonlight. He looks ready to start speaking, but frowns at seeing Derek. “Derek? Is this- you work here?” 

“Yeah,” Derek looks up, ignoring how good Stiles looks with that slightly wet t-shirt clinging to his body, and they stare at each other for a full second. His chest warming. Derek can see Stiles’ eyes wandering down to his stained wifebeater and he can’t help but feel smug at the whiff of attraction arriving in Stiles’ scent. 

When neither of them speaks, Derek does - breaking their eye contact. “What are you doing here Stiles?” 

“Right, of course,” Stiles looks down, embarrassment joining in on his scent, “my jeep. It broke down a few blocks over and I was walking home when I saw you guys still had the lights on. But you’re probably closed right? I can wait till-” 

“No, I can fix it.” Derek blurts out without much thought and Stiles’ eyebrows move up in surprise. 

“Umh that would be really nice, but are you sure? You don’t have to, you know.” Despite his words, there’s a hopeful spark in Sitles’ eyes and all derek can think is that he never wants to disappoint that hope. 

“No it’s fine,” he turns, clearing his throat, “let me just get my stuff and I’ll follow you out.”

An appreciative gleam comes over Stiles’ eyes. “Thanks Derek.”

Ed is giving him a pointed look when he walks back into the kitchen. Derek shrugs, moving to gather his jacket from where it was hanging over his chair and his portable toolkit from their desk. “It’s a friend of mine, his jeep failed a few blocks back.” 

“A friend huh?” Ed snickers, moving over the table to grab the remainders of Derek’s plate and pulling it towards him. “Derek you’re a lot of things, but a friendly samaritan isn’t one of them. You expect me to believe you’re going to walk through the pouring rain to fix some old jeep for just a friend?”

He can feel his cheeks heating up and fuck, that would just be comfirmation for Ed. “He’s a friend, Ed.”

“If that’s what you want to believe.”

\---

It was rainer harder outside than he expected it to, the run of water so constant it was partly blocking his sight, but it does force him to make quick work of fixing Stiles’ engine. 

The other guy stands next to him, both using the upturned hood of the powder blue jeep as cover, and thankfulness is coming off the other guy in waves. It makes Derek’ chest warm up, despite the cold air inside his lungs, and he can’t help but think back to the Halloween party and the moment they shared. He was pretty sure Stiles was at least attracted to him as well, but he isn’t sure whether he should be doing anything with it. Or if he even could.

He turns his wrench to readjust the loose bolt and he checks the fluid tanks to see if they’re still filled up enough. Once satisfied, he turns to an expectant Stiles. “All done. Though you should maybe look at replacing that spark plug.”

“I need a new spark?” Stiles’ eyes turn highly amused, as if it’s hilarious - which you know, it sort of is. “Figures.” 

Derek fights the urge to roll his eyes, instead going for a shrug he hopes looks casual. “I mean, if you’re set on keeping this thing then yeah.”

“This thing? Excuse you. Roscoe is my baby and I will not have you offend her.” Stiles eyes him defiantlly as he goes to rub the jeep lovingly. Like a weirdo. “But thank you for fixing her, she is my one true love even if she leaves me for dead in the rain sometimes.”

Derek can’t help but feel amused. Stiles had given his car a name. Whilst more people did that, it was somehow strangely endearing when Stiles did it. Even if it somehow also made Derek feel jealous of an inatimate object. Shaking his head at himself and at Stiles a little, Derek moves to close the jeep’s hood again. As much as he would want to stay, it’s raining so he doesn’t have much of an excuse to linger. Rain is dripping down his profile as he clears his throat, briefly eyeing Stiles as he waves. “It’s not a problem Stiles. See you around.”

Stiles frowns, hand moving forwards to curl around Derek’s wrist. “Dude, don’t be weird, let me give you a ride.” 

“I- sure.” Derek arrempts to pretend that the only reason he's accepting is because it beats walking in the rain. 

The jeep is surprisingly spacious as he enters, the worn leather seats a familiar comfort against his back. Between his feet is a clutter of receipts, an empty milkshake container and other pieces of paper Stiles probably threw down there sometime. A polaroid of Stiles and Lydia is stuck to the dashboard, _full moon 2016_ written in black sharpie underneath it. Right, when they still lived with their actual pack. Derek’s wolf grumbles unhappily.

Stiles is cheerful as he turns on the engine, releasing a pleased laugh and actually fistpumping the air as the jeep comes alive after just two short engine spurs. He looks over at Derek with a wide, almost blinding smile. “Jeez thanks Derek, how much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Derek shrugs, quickly looking away from those fucking plump lips.

“What?” Stiles scoffs confused as he tightens his hands around the steering wheel, moving to look over his shoulder for any oncoming traffic. “You’re kidding right? I’m paying you. I’m a big boy, I can pay my own bills.” 

Derek would never want to let Stiles pay for anything, but he can’t exactly say that. He shrugs, ignoring how the big boy comment is already starting a new line of fantasies in his head, and pointedly sends a stern look Stiles’ way. “Consider it an employee discount. First fix free.”

Stiles huffs out a sound that’s mostly disagreeing, mumbling dissatisfied words under his breath, before his eyes shoot back up to Derek’s. “There’s nothing I can give you?” 

His wolf whines in his chest at hearing those words, because there’s a lot his wolf wanted from Stiles. A soft sound falls from his lips involuntarily and Derek swallows, throat tightening, as he looks into Stiles’ widened eyes. The jeep starts to feel less spacious as the air once again seems to become charged with that now familiar electric thrill. Stiles seems to catch on too, as nerves creep up into his scent, and he moves around on the passenger seat to face Derek. Eyes big as he licks his lips. 

Want rushes through Derek’s stomach and his body feels as if it’s buzzing with currents. The rain had only increased the pureness of Stiles’ scent, now strong in Derek’s nose. He doesn’t know what to do, but his lips move without his consent. “Stiles-” 

“Derek.” Stiles’ gaze remains steady, pupils blown slightly, as he inches even closer. “Is there something you want me to give you?” 

Those gorgeous honey speckled eyes bore into his and Derek folds his hands into fists under the intensity of it, the prick of his claws against his palms revealing how much this was truly affecting him. He knows what Stiles is doing though. He’s asking. Asking if Derek would want this, with every inch he comes closer. 

There’s uncertainty in the other man’s eyes and Derek’s wolf whines at seeing that look reflected in the one he desired most. Stiles should never have to be uncertain about himself, especially not around Derek. Fuck. He really is gone for this guy, because all he can think about is taking that unsure look away.

The moment their lips touch is a bit awkward at first. It appears Stiles hadn’t thought Derek would actually do it as well as the bloody stick getting in the way, jabbing Derek in his chest as he leans over it. Stiles makes a surprised gasp against Derek’s lips but is quick to press back against him, tongue moving over Derek’s bottom lip and hand moving to the back of his neck. Jesus. 

Derek groans, letting his mouth fall open to allow Stiles’ entrance. He moves his own hand to Stiles’ shirt and drags him even closer as Stiles’ tongue presses into Derek’s mouth. There’s a desperation to their kiss. A sense of disbelief. Derek’s wolf howls pleased inside his chest. Mine mine _mine_. 

He moves to suck on Stiles’ lip, looking up from beneath his eyelashes at the absolute whimper that pulls out of Stiles. And god, Stiles looks amazing like this, lips slightly puffed, cheeks red and eyes filled with heath. Derek wolfs rumbles inside his chest, pushing him forwards and clashing their mouths back together.

Making out in a car was a teenage pleasure Derek had never partaken in, though he’s apparently catching up now. It takes a lot for him to stop, moving back to look at a panting Stiles. They stare at each other with big eyes and Derek can’t help himself. “God, you’re so beautiful.” 

Stiles moves to blush at his words, fucking adorable, and Derek has to swallow at how that intensifies his want. He wants to know exactly how far that blush spreads and wants to run his tongue over every part of it. The scent of both their desire is strong inside the enclosed space of the car, mixing together already and Derek growls at how fucking good it smells. Stiles’ eyes shoot to his, brows raised in a question. 

Derek growls again, digging his shifted nails into his palm. “We should probably head back, before I want you too much and take you on the backseat.”

Stiles’ mouth falls open, a flash of desire rushing through him, and he eyes Derek smugly after he retakes himself. “Who says that’s not what I want?” 

His wolf howls in agreement, but Derek presses it down. Instead eyeing Stiles’ sternly. “I’m not going to fuck you for the first time in your car as if you’re a cheap date.”

Stiles swallows visibly, averting his eyes and shifting to sit aligned to the steering wheel. The jeep was still humming in await of when they’d finally end up driving. He eyes Derek coyly from the position. “Thought about that a lot then? Our first time?” 

“Ever since you spilled your fucking drink over me.” 

“What? I thought you hated me, dude.” Stiles huffs out a breath as he moves to strap his seatbelt on, the shy look in his eyes becoming covered with that familiar cocky grin. “And also, you totally walked into me so don’t go play the blaming game.”

That’s not how Derek remembers it, but he’s way too happy it happened anyway so he doesn’t argue. Instead he laughs, before focusing on the joyful spikes of amazement coming from Stiles’ scent and breathing them in to remember forever.

\--

Stiles feels like he’s floating. Literally.

Somehow his body feels lighter than usual, his steps less heavy, his back not sore. Even his scars don’t ache as much. His spark is buzzing happily underneath his sternum, sending pleasant flares throughout his limbs, and for some reason extremely active. 

All the flowers, herbs and even the weeds on the walk over have been appropriately labeled and filed away in his brain this morning. And the were that passed him by, well the secret stash of wolfsbane alcohol inside her sports water bottle was detected when she hadn’t even been inside his view yet. 

Walking into Moonstruck’s street his spark starts to tap underneath his skin cheerfully. As if it’s glad to see the place. Stiles huffs out a breath, slightly confused but also amused by himself.

The bar is empty when he enters, only opening in a few hours, and he sounders towards the greenhouse. He halts in his step when he sees Kiara bent over her desk, copies of their work schedules sprawled across it. For some reason his spark jumps up inside his chest, _Derek’s sister. Derek’s pack. Pack. Pack. Pack._

Sometimes he likes to imagine his spark as a sort of curious toddler. Just screaming out whatever he’s discovered now, not always making sense as to why he’s sharing these discoveries. Usually they’re plant based, letting Stiles know what magic or property is in the plant, how it could hurt him and how he can use it to heal or hurt others. 

This, telling him family relations, has never actually happened before. And it’s..odd. He’s quite sure he already knew Kiara was Derek’s sister. Why his spark felt like telling him again he’s not too sure of. 

He shakes his head before stepping into the tiny space that’s Kiara’s office, moving in to ruffle her hair. She sends him a small smile, but he notices her tired eyes. “You okay, bosslady?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Kiara sighs softly, shifting in her chair to face him fully, “it’s just that my parents called and they need me in town this week but that would mean having to close on the pub a few nights.”

Eying her desk and the many open notebooks on it, he sees she’s been struggling with this for a while. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Really?” She turns to him with surprised eyes and her hand moves upwards to squeeze his shoulder lovingly. He smiles. “That’d be great Stiles.”

“Anything for you Kiara.” He feels the frown form on his face at her previous words though and goes to face her. “But is everything okay down there?” 

“Nothing we can’t handle.” Kiara smirks confidently and the slight panic Stiles had felt disappears at the sight of it. She kisses his cheek, thanking him again, before he heads further back. The feeling of earth and forest surround him as he enters the greenhouse.

The rest of the afternoon is spent cutting down full grown wolfsbane leaves and using his spark to maximize their magic properties. Deaton and he had practiced it last skype session. That way they’ll give off the most power, making him have to use less of the actual plant. Science and stuff. 

You’d think that with the sharp attentive way his spark had been acting today that it would go over quite well. Except in reality, he’d mostly been staring at the curling leaves of the flowers and thinking about Derek. Derek, who’d fixed his jeep in the worst rain Stiles has seen the past year for no charge at all, who’d literally whined as Stiles came closer. Who kissed Stiles. And seemed to like it.

And damn, it had been some kiss. His body still shudders just at the thought of it. The feeling of Derek’s beard against his cheeks, the growls that had rumbled through their mouths, the way Derek’s hand was curled up angrily in Stiles’ shirt. The way his spark had tingled for hours after Derek left, constantly spiking up in desire and happiness. 

Derek wanted him too. 

It almost felt silly to realize. 

But it was true. 

They’d spend the last few days texting back and forth almost coyly. He’d needed to pry Derek’s number out of Erica’s hands, who had giggled evilly and made him promise she would be maid of honour, and now they were on a somewhat steady level of texting. Derek was a dry texter though, but Stiles had gotten a :) this morning. So things are really hitting off.

When Kiara enters two hours later he’s not even done half of his plantations and god, why is he like this? Kiara looks apologetic as she comes to hug him goodbye, wrapping him up underneath her soft blue woolen vest. “I love you my sparky boy.”

Yeah, they were all saying I love you’s now. It was great. “Love you too, bosslady. Now get out.”

Kiara goes to lean against his desk tentatively, picking up one of the tiny scissors he’d just been using and going to play with it between her fingers. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes.” Stiles rolls his eyes. He knew it would be his first shift alone, but he’s worked here for almost five months now - he knows what to do. “Come on Kiara, shoo.”

Why Kiara wanted to stay open, he’s not too sure. There’s fuck all to do that night, a few people coming by for a drink - Jim included (Carol has gone to live with her mother). He’s cleaned the entire bar twice, his hands now smelling like citrus bleach, and restocked everything he possibly could restock. He’s bored.

His phone buzzes in his back pocket and he whips it out to see Derek’s name on the screen. He grins.

 **Derek:** _just heard kiara is gone, you doing ok there?_

 **Stiles:** _pls come save me before I die of boredom with Jim having to find my body._

 **Derek:** _sounds like a story Jim could use to get Carol back. Maybe I should give him that._

 **Stiles:** _hahaha. You wouldn’t dare._

 **Stiles:** _come have a drink with me tho, sourwolf?_

 **Derek:** _ok. See u after I finish work._

Stiles is grinning down at the screen of his phone, realizing he must look like an idiot. But he can’t help the victorious feeling from coming over him. His spark bouncing up and down in his chest. Derek was coming. It’s almost embarrassing how excited that makes him. 

Jim leaves ten minutes later and Stiles sighs at the sight of the empty bar. He’ll have to stay open till midnight, but there hasn’t been a new customer in the last hour. Gotta love mondays.

The door opens then and Stiles goes to smile widely, looks like Derek came in early. His smile quickly wavers when two men come in, one dressed top to bottom in camo and looking like the epitome of a Texan, and the other in a tan leather jacket with faded jeans underneath. The last guy is scruffy looking, a five day old stubble marking his face and not in the good way. The other one is balding but doesn’t look like he’s ready to admit that to himself yet.

There’s something unsettling about the looks in their eyes, but Stiles ignores it as he chipperly greets them. “Welcome lads, what can I get ya?”

They take place at the bar, sitting down right across from him, and the scruffy guy lets his eyes glance over Stiles. He then goes to grin widely, revealing a crooked set of teeth. “The owner not in today?”

“No they’re not here.” Stiles goes to cross his arms, eyes narrowing when he suddenly feels the presence of a type of wolfsbane he knows he doesn’t have in the back. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Ah no we’re just old friends of Hale’s.” Scruffy guy still sporting that big grin. “We had some questions about her new recipes.”

Right. Somehow these men don’t feel like Kiara’s usual friends. And that reference to recipes, yeah no. They were obviously interested in the wolfsbane. His spark reaches out, feeling the wolfsbane present in both the back pockets of the men. Bullets. Wolfsbane bullets. Hunters then.

Stiles quickly goes to smile widely, not wanting to let them know he’s onto them. “Well, I can tell you about them if you guys want. Anything I can get you guys to taste?”

Baldy looks as if he wants to say something, but Scruffy interrupts him before he can. “Are you the new brewer then?” 

“Yes.” Stiles decides to go back to the chipper attitude, not wanting to raise suspicion. “Currently working on a cherry beer but it’s not been entirely successful.”

“That sounds refreshing.” Scruffy’s eyes remain calm and collected, but he goes to place his hand on the bar, leaning into Stiles’ personal space. “Tell me. How does it work? Brewing? What herbs do you tend to use?”

If he’d had a bit more time Stiles could probably have thought of a better plan, but feigning ignorance doesn’t seem like the worst idea right now so he goes with that. Lying had become a life skill after all. He huffs out a laugh, plastering a wide grin on his lips. “Oh all kinds of stuff. Obviously mostly hops. There are so many different types of hops you know, some bittering some with more aroma. We order some in from England, those are a favourite of mine.”

Baldy leans closer too and speaks up for the first time, his voice near a hiss. “Any purple herbs?”

Come on Stiles. We can act stupid and oblivious. He manages to sport a confused frown as he goes to babble as much as he can to buy himself some time to think. “Purple? Not that much actually. Not many herbs are purple, that’s more of a flower thing I’d say. I guess you could use lavender in a beer now that I think about it, but I haven’t really gotten to that yet. Plus you know, lavender is kind of more of a candle or soap kind of smell. Not something I think many people would want to put inside their mouths. But if you’re interested in brewing with lavender don’t let me stop you. I can give you guys some good websites, better than wikipedia I mean. Though I have to give credit where credit’s due, wikipedia has actually-” 

“Shut up!” Baldy leans forwards and suddenly gets a gun out of his jacket. He places it down on the corner of the bar with an aggressively loud tud. Stiles swallows at the sight of it. “It’s not exactly the brewing we’re interested in.” 

Scruffy guy briefly looks annoyed at Baldy for bringing out the gun but then he narrows his eyes at Stiles and his voice takes on a threatening undertone. “Right kid. Stop playing coy, we know you know what we’re talking about. You look like a good kid, but maybe you just got caught up in the wrong kind of business. The people you’re catering too, they should stick to living in the shadows.”

Stiles drops his facade, his mouth turning into a thin line and whilst he eyes the gun nervously, he can feel annoyance overtake him. “You guys hunters then?”

“See kid there you go. Don’t get smart.” Scruffy gets a pleased grin on his face.

“So what’s the idea?” Stiles steps towards the bar, “you come in here, tell me to tell my boss to close the place? I say no, you kill me?”

“I thought he told you not to get smart.” And oh that’s a gun being actually pointed at him. Okay yes maybe a little scary. For some reason it scares him more than claws used to do. Fuck, he’d thought this kind of stuff would all be left in his past.

He swallows, his adam’s apple moving visibly, and he goes to raise his hands into the air. “Okay guys, no need for the gun. Just tell me what it is you want.”

“We want you to tell Hale she’s walking on thin ice. We’ve tolerated plenty of her, but opening a fucking werewolf bar is not something we can allow.” Scruffy looks at him intently, going back to that stupid grin.

Right Stiles, think. This is obviously bigger than just you. 

“And what if I don’t?” Stiles keeps his eyes calm. 

His answer is being pulled on top of the bar by Baldy and he groans as the hard oak wood is pressed up against his cheeks. He can feel Baldy’s hand pushing down on his back and his eyes widen in panic as he feels the hilt of the gun pressed to his side. Gruffy’s voice fills up his ear, a soft but threatening whisper. “You better just listen, kid.”

Fucking fuck, this can’t be happening. Stiles didn’t make it through years of werewolf wars and the fucking nogitsune to end up getting taken out by two wannabe tough guys. His mind races a mile a minute, attempting to think of how he can get out of this position when he hears a loud roar fill up the room. 

His entire body tenses as he immediately recognizes it immediately. His spark jumping up inside his chest. _Derek._ The hand and gun are pulled off his body before he can even blink and when he looks up, Baldy is laying on the floor with a shifted Derek on top of him. 

Stiles can’t help but stare at the struggle for a second before remembering he shouldn’t. He's quick as he grabs the leftover bottle of wine that stands behind him and cracks it on Scruffy’s head. The man screams, blood now dripping down the side of his face, and his eyes turn angry as they’re pointed at Stiles. Stiles reaches backwards, grabbing a hold of the bread knife that was still laying on the edge and he goes to hold it in front of him. 

Scruffy huffs out a laugh, seemingly finding his display amusing, and Stiles can’t help but grin. Never underestimate the token human. He whips the knife around in his hand, diving forwards as headbutss Scruffy. The man wheezes at the impact and Stiles is quick as he jabs the blade into the man’s tigh, using the technique Chris Argent thought him. Twist the blade once it’s inside to do extra damage.

Scruffy’s yell fills up the air and manages to kick Stiles’ in his stomach. It makes him double over and fall back behind the bar. Stiles panics, heaving in uneven breaths, and he hears a loud crack against the structure. Another roar fills his business and he feels frozen in his spot as he hears the gun go off.

No. No. No. _No._

His muscles tighten, a zap of lightning rushing through them and before he knows what’s happening his fingers are sparking off electricity. He jumps across the bar, the few leftover glasses falling down onto the floor, and he bites down at his lip as he pulls at the magic basain from the greenhouse. His entire body is tight with the presence of magic and power and it’s moments like these that Stiles wishes his powers were like that of a witch - that he could just zap the hunters down. Take them out in one go, hitting their hands down on the floor. Be useful.

Now all he can do is focus on their revolvers and the bullets inside, focus on the wolfsbane and suck out their energy. Render them down to merely a regular flower. He closes his eyes, the energy in his body focusing on the bullet lodged in Derek’s shoulder. Wanting to do the same. 

Shit, the wolfsbane’s already made its way into his bloodstream. Stiles curses, eyes spearing back open, and he rushes over to where Baldy is hanging over Derek. An immense anger fills up his body and he’s thankful that Chris Argent trained him how to survive without his powers. He jumps opun Baldy, pressing his elbows deep into the other man’s stomach. Pleased with the breathy grunt the man releases. As he hangs above him, he goes to push his fist against the man’s jaw for good measure. Scruffy wanders over then, blood still streaming past his profile, and goes to punch Stiles right back on his face. 

Stiles groans, losing his position above Baldy, and his head lands on Derek’s stomach from where he lies. Derek growls underneath him, attempting to sit up himself, but Stiles presses him back down. He can feel the wolfsbane rushing through the other man’s vines and he knows that the more Derek moves, the faster it will spread. He feels his lips turning up into a snarl, wolf habit he knows, as he jumps back on his feet and goes to glower at the men. 

“Consider yourselves banned from this bar.” He makes his hand spark on purpose, loving the shock that arises in Baldy’s eyes. “Now get the fuck out of my face before I will no longer be a good host.” 

The men leave, scrambling up quickly, and Scruffy snarls one last time - making Stiles think this won’t end tonight. He steps forward, hoping he looks at menancially as he feels, and is pleased to see the hunters head out the door. As soon he hears the door fall shut in its lock Stiles rapidly turns back to where Derek still lies on the floor. Black blood is oozing out of the wound in his shoulder, staining the grey henley he’s wearing, and Stiles hunches over to pull it off.

Not exactly the situation he’d hoped he’d take off Derek’s shirt in, but he’ll take it. He purposely doesn’t look at the muscles he’s sure are revealed and zooms in on the shot wound. It’s..well it’s ugly. The bullet having hit deep and he determently presses his eyes back shut and moves his hands to hover over the place of impact.

“Stiles.” Derek growls out, voice strained and interrupted by his heavy breathing.

He forces his eyes open, his spark angry in his chest _what are you doing we need to save our wolf, save our wolf._ Right, okay, that was a disturbing line of thought there spark, shut up now please. Focusing back on Derek, he finds the other man to stare at him with worry. “Are you..okay?” 

Derek goes to cough, the words having taking some of his last energy, and fuck..Stiles can’t help the endeared smile that comes over him. He goes to cup Derek’s chin. “I’m fine Derek. Thanks to you. And you will be too, if you just shut up now and let me do my magic okay.”

Derek huffs out a breath Stiles thinks would have been a laugh otherwise and goes to arch an amused eyebrow at Stiles. Stiles rolls his eyes, already knowing Derek would have wanted to pair that look with a lame, sarcastic remark. “Shut your eyebrows. This is literally what I do man. Now stop moving and let me suck the poison out of you okay?”

 _Even if he’d rather suck something else._ Right no, no time for those kinds of thoughts.

He goes back to his original position, hands going back above Derek’s wound and his spark jumps out immediately. Energy pulses through him, currents making his fingers clench, and his spark is working with a passion and strength Stiles hasn’t experienced it doing often before. Derek’s vein circuit pops into his mind, an elaborate 3D model rivaling medical drawings in its quality, and he grimaces at seeing many of the veins have already turned black. Anxiety joins the emotions in his chest. _We need to save our wolf. Save wolf._ It quickly leaves when seeing Derek’s heart is not yet affected by the wolfsbane. Still beating a healthy pink. Thank goodness. As Stiles goes to focus on Derek’s heart his eyes widen when he sees a bright gold thread between his and Derek’s hearts. He sits in shock for a brief second, anxiety flooding his chest for a different reason now, because what the hell does that mean?

His spark zaps up inside his chest, angrily burning him back to attention. Stiles shakes his head. Refocusing on the actual wound, his spark is quick to find the bullet - even if it’s fragmented inside Derek’s flesh. _Actonium_ _Barbatum._ Stiles releases a nervous breath, okay right - just common monkshood. He has that. He jumps up, rushing his way through the staff door and into the greenhouse. The glass display case seems to glow despite it already being dark outside and he dives forwards, pushing it open roughly before ripping a handful of strands out of their soil.

He moves to grab the lighter he always keeps fully fueled inside his left sock and runs back into the bar, lightning the wolfsbane on fire before gently but maybe not gently enough pressing it inside Derek’s open shoulder. 

Derek hisses underneath his hands, chest moving up in defiance of the sharp pain, and Stiles attempts to anchor him down. Eyes fixed on the wound as a sound close to a whine leaves his lips, desperate for this to work. “Come on, Der.” 

He keeps his fingers steady on the wound, focusing on spreading the inflamed wolfsbane through Derek’s blood. Spark rising up in his chest, pushing its magic into Stiles’ fingers and into Derek’s injury. Following the pull, he guides the antidote wolfsbane on its way through Derek’s blood until it balances out the hunter’s wolfsbane. He bites down on his lips, releasing a breath when he finds them to cancel each other out. Moving his energy up to focus on Derek’s heart, which he places a protective antidote barrier around just to be sure.

Usually he’d let go by now, hell Scott hadn’t even got this much check up treatment the times he’d been shot, but Stiles’ spark is just biting down. Not wanting to let this go without being sure all enemy wolfsbane is out of Derek’s system. He needs to see every vein colour back to the red it’s supposed to be. His entire body feels on edge, every muscle contracting, as he pushes the last bit of his magic into Derek - rushing the wolfsbane along through his bloodstream. Please, please, please. His spark hums in his chest, anxious and unsettled, _save our wolf._

A hand curls around his wrist, the simple movement shocking Stiles out of his frenzy and his eyes shoot open to see Derek looking at him. Hazel eyes sparkling with both worry as well as an impressed look, the tiniest of smiles marking his lips. “Stiles. It’s okay. I’ve survived this before.”

Releasing a breath, he feels his spark settling inside his chest as he looks into Derek’s eyes. Repeating the words in his mind. Derek’s okay. A weight falls from his shoulders.

Still on edge, he moves backwards and releases Derek’s shoulders from where he was still gripping them tightly. Derek keeps that tentative smile on his expression as he too moves up, winching softly, before going back to stare into Stiles’s eyes. His hand moves to Stiles’ jaw, where Baldy hit him. “Are you okay Stiles?” 

“Yes.” He breathes out the words, only now noticing that his face is indeed throbbing with the familiar sensation of a forming bruise. “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

A moan falls off his lips as he feels the dull pain being pulled away and his eyes shoot to Derek’s arm - veins a visible black. Brows furrowing, he goes to slap at Derek’s hand. “Stop healing me you bastard, you were literally just shot.” 

“You healed me,” Derek’s eyes are open and earnest, “let me heal you.” 

Stiles chuckles at that, the sound not as breezy as it would usually be, and goes to lean into Derek’s palm. Derek rumbles underneath him, eyes narrowing as he moves forwards and goes to hold Stiles close. Stiles shudders and finds himself placing his arms around Derek. He breathes out heavily. “Thank god you’re okay.”

“I am.” Derek's voice is slightly raspy, as he softly pushes Stiles backwards in order to connect their eyes, “thanks to you.” 

Stiles manages a weak smile, finally feeling the last bit of tension leave his body, and he can’t help but shudder as he looks into the warmth of Derek’s expression. “You saved me too. No telling what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.” 

Derek’s jaw tightens at that, a protective gleam joining his eyes, and Stiles feels his spark zap up inside his chest in response. A feeling close to lightning pushing him forwards and placing his lips on Derek’s. Derek groans at the impact, moving his hand to grip at Stiles’ neck as he too dives forwards. It’s hungry, desperate with the feeling of needing to feel each other. Needing to feel the other is healthy and alive and fine. Because Stiles somehow needed Derek to be alive and healthy desperately.

Their tongues meet, sliding together as they pull and push. Stiles’ hand is curled into Derek’s shirt and he releases a breathy moan when Derek pulls back, those bunny teeth lingering on Stiles’ bottom lip before he lets go. 

He’s sure his eyes are heated when he looks back up, satisfied warmth pooling inside his stomach. Derek’s eyes sure do, pupils dilated and open ablaze. Stiles grins, moving his hand over where the shot wound is already healing over. “You good to stand, big guy?” 

Derek nods, looking like he wants to roll his eyes, but does allow Stiles to help him to his feet. There they take a look of the mess Moonstruck has become. Glass lays shattered on the floors, joined by barely dried splatters of blood. Especially Derek’s, the inky colour of his blood having stained the floorboards underneath him. Stiles sighs, turning to face Derek. “I guess we better call Kiara, huh?” 

Derek jerks his head, business face on. “And my alpha.”

The calls don’t take too long. Or maybe they did take a while, Stiles might be comparing them to his calls with his sheriff father which always consist of a lot more yelling and questioning. Kiara was furious though, growling through the phone, snapping that she’d come right over. Stiles assured her there was no need for that though, the bar was fine and he’s pretty sure not even Baldy would be stupid enough to come back on the same night. 

Derek’s phone calls took longer, and he kept sending Stiles tired looks as his phone kept going off again, Laura also calling him to scream at him worriedly. It makes Stiles grin. 

When Laura is finally satisfied, having wanted to hear Stiles’ voice as well, Derek hangs up with a sigh that rivals that of an old man. Stiles can’t help his slight grin, but goes over to squeeze Derek’s shoulder tentatively. Derek leans into the touch, going to lean against Stiles’ chest. Releasing another sigh. “Sorry about my family.”

“They’re just worried,” Stiles smiles, turning them around, “it makes sense.” 

Derek smiles at that too, a tiny upturn of his lips, before his expression turns soft as he grabs Stiles’ hand. His thumb moving over the top of Stiles’ skin in circular motions. Stiles smiles, his spark tingling in satisfaction, and he goes to look up at Derek, realizing he trusts this man immensely. His heart kicks up its tempo, beating loudly, as he thinks back to the way he’s been feeling tonight and these last few days. This..warmth, pleased as if he’s one. Whole. His spark finally having connected with not only his strength, but also his emotions. 

Yet, he can’t help but also feel worried about it all. His spark has been shooting up in weird ways, somehow strangely fierce and protective over Derek. Calling him our wolf. And then the gold thread he saw between their hearts. He doesn’t know what it means or if it even means anything. And if it does, what he should do about it. 

He goes to face Derek, who’s looking at him with a tiny, worried frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“I think maybe we should talk.” Stiles bites at his lips, “about..us.” 

\--

Hearing Stiles say they needed to talk send a worried pang to Derek’s chest. He knew Stiles was right, they should talk. He just doesn’t know if he’s ready to talk. To admit the things he’s been feeling. 

He’d always known his wolf wanted Stiles. That his primal side recognized Stiles as a good partner, a sufficient..mate. And that’s why he knew he had needed to be careful with this situation before his wolf would truly choose Stiles as his mate. There would be no turning back then. 

It’s weird how deep of a connection he feels to Stiles. He’s dated before and his wolf had always gotten possessive. But this is on a different level. He still shudders just thinking of the electric feeling he gets when he looks into those honey eyes. 

God. Derek was too young for this shit. None of the Hale children had found their mate yet. He had never seen it all play out. Was this how it always went? Wanting to take care of Stiles, protect him, hold him, make him pack so desperately? Tonight as well, feeling the fear and worry of the other man on such a deep level that he immediately dropped everything he was doing to rush over and protect him?

Now that they’d kissed, now that their attraction and want and need for the other, were physically confirmed. Well, that made his wolf roar, wanting to claim and wanting to mate. The bond snapping into place from his side. His wolf wanting Stiles to be his mate. He’d be a good mate as well. Smart, strong, loyal. A spark nonetheless. 

But he doesn’t know if Stiles would even want to consider Derek. Maybe it was purely physical for the other man. He doesn’t know if humans feel the bond, feel the need for connection, what he’s heard from stories they don’t always.

“Derek?” Stiles looks at him puzzled, going to grab a hold of his hand and squeezing it tightly. “You okay?” 

“We should,” Derek swallows, “we should talk.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles’ eyes are kind, the worry ebbing away, as he goes to look up at Derek through his eyelashes, “want to try my new drink?” 

All Derek can do is nod and follow Stiles further into the back. They enter the greenhouse, the earthy scent of blossoming flowers filling up Derek’s nose. Stiles moves through the collection of glass tables, which looks like it’s grown substantially since Derek last was here, and goes to grab a bottle of clear liquid from his desk. He turns, eyes sparkling. “It’s my gin. You’re a gin lover right?” 

“I am,” Derek shuffles forwards to where Stiles is pouring them both a glass. Their close proximity sends another rush through his body.

Stiles looks up and they clink their glasses together in a quiet cheers, eyes fixed on the other. The gin is sweet, soft and pleasant as he swallows it down. Derek manages a small smile, still a bit anxious knowing what conversation is coming. “It’s good Stiles.” 

“I know.” Stiles grins, turning to shift a few papers to the side before sitting down on top of his desk. “Now, I do think we need to talk. I still want to thank you for fixing my baby first of all-” 

“No need to thank me.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes at his interruption, before a shy smile comes onto his lips. “And for what happened after.” 

His cheeks heat up despite himself and Derek needs to break their eye contact for a second, going to mumble at the floor. “You liked it then?” 

“I literally just used more spark energy than I have in the last two years just to make sure you were okay, of course I liked it.” 

Derek doesn’t need to look up to know Stiles is rolling his eyes, but he does. Surprised to find an endeared look on the other man’s face instead. His cheeks heat up even further. “I liked it too.” 

“Well, I’d fucking hope so.” Stiles is smirking now and Derek goes to roll his eyes, giving the other man a playful shove. Stiles just snickers, before his eyes cover over with an unsure expression. He breathes out, the sound rather heavy. “I saw something. When I healed you.”

Derek’s eyebrows rise and he tilts his head as he lets the gin that was swirling through his mouth fall into his throat. “What do you mean? You saw something?”

“It was this..well this thread. A gold thread. Between us.” Stiles almost looks shy, having broken their eye contact in favour of staring into the contents of his glass. 

A thread. Derek can’t help the happy spike of joy that fills up his chest. Stiles saw a thread. His wolf rumbles with excitement, his mate saw their connection. On his own. That means he feels it too. Thank god.

Derek sighs then, hating that this is how he needed to tell Stiles about the bond, that it couldn’t just be on a nice, breezy summer evening after they’d just picniced and were now walking across the beach, burrowing their toes in the sand, that he would tell Stiles - hey I think you might be my mate. Not after they’d just been attacked by hunters and had barely even been on a date yet. Now that violence had forced them together. Maybe he shouldn’t mention the whole mate thing yet. 

He looks back up, Stiles’ eyes still focused on him with intent and fuck..all Derek wants is to look into those eyes forever. The moment sends another warm shudder through his body and he finds comfort in Stiles’ presence despite the man also making him feel uncertain, unsteady on his feet.

He inhales, calming his upwelling nerves, before speaking up. “I think that might be because of me. I..well my wolf..it feels you. Strongly. It’s weird and I can’t really explain it properly, but I just feel connected to you. Or my wolf does.” 

“I know exactly what you mean.” Stiles releases a breathy laugh, eyes wide as he goes to motion between them. “You make my spark tingle.”

\--

“I make your spark tingle?” Derek looks at him with confused brows, but an amused sparkle in his eyes.

Ahhh, why did he say that? Fuck. he’s so stupid. He might as well have said Derek makes his dick tingle. 

Embarrassed, Stiles quickly takes another sip from the gin and ignores the slight burn it leaves in his throat. Derek eyebrows move upwards at the action, but mostly in an amused fashion.

“Well I just mean..” Stiles feels awkward, oh so awkward, and when did this conversation switch to his repressed feelings instead of Derek’s, “your presence sends that pull through my body. The same as wolfsbane does.”

Derek’s eyes widen at that and Stiles can see the confession running through his mind. Then the other man swallows, placing his glass on Stiles’ desk, before stepping even more into Stiles’ space. “You mean like magic?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods as he runs it over, “exactly like magic.”

“Like..electricity?” Derek’s eyes are suddenly speared open, fixing Stiles down in his position, and Stiles can only nod as he finds recognition inside them.

Derek chuckles then, the sound so breezy and lovely and damn Stiles wants to hear that more often, before shaking his head and looking back at Stiles. “I’ve felt that too. With you.” 

“You felt..magic?” Wonder fills up Stiles’ stomach.

“I felt something electric.” Derek turns in his position, eyes earnest.“Something I never really felt before. It’s only there when you are.” 

“They do call it a spark for a reason.” A grin comes over his expression, the flash of nerves settling inside him because it sounds like Derek had been feeling this as much as he had. Derek is smiling too, the cutest upturn of his lips and Stiles feels the happy rush of his spark inside him, fluttering up in desire and mutual interest. His grin turns into a genuine smile. “Like I said, I feel you too sometimes. I think that might be why that thread was there. It’s like..a connection between us.” 

Derek’s features sharpen, seriousness making its way into his expression as he looks up at Stiles with meaningful eyes. “A bond.”

All Stiles can do is nod, feeling enthralled under that look Derek is giving him. Energy pulses through his form, joyful flickers of warmth rushing down his legs before pooling hotly inside his stomach. He goes to bite down at his lip at the now familiar feeling of desire for Derek welling up and he swears he can feel Derek’s as well. A warm feeling of..well Derek and desire and this sensation he just can’t explain but of which he knows it’s Derek’s need for him. His eyes shoot up to see Derek’s eyes are fixated on his mouth, pupils blown slightly, and Stiles swallows when their eyes do reconnect. 

He’s not sure who moved forwards first but he does know his desk is suddenly pressing into his back as Derek’s hand run over his hips and his tongue is deep inside Derek’s mouth. It’s hot and slick and everything Stiles wants right now. Needs right now. Their tongues move exploratibly, still getting to know the feeling of one another, and Stiles’ hands move across Derek’s back desperately - squeezing and feeling before they find their position in Derek’s neck. He forces Derek closer, getting his tongue deeper inside of him, and groans at the revealing feeling of Derek moaning at the sensation. 

There’s a rumble inside Derek’s chest and Stiles releases a sharp intake of breath when he feels claws pricking into his sides. Derek backs out of their kiss, eyes shining a beautiful beta gold, and Stiles just smirks confidently. “Don’t stop on my account.” 

Derek just roars at that, the sound loud inside the room, but Stiles doesn’t care. He just wants those lips back on his. Derek obliges quickly thank god and before he knows what’s happening he’s being lifted up onto his desk, Derek moving in between his thighs. Fuck. Their kiss deepens, both of them taking what they want, and Stiles’ erection is pressing almost painfully against the inside of his jeans. Derek breaks their lips apart, instead moving to suck at the sensitive skin of Stiles’ neck. Licking a wide stripe across his collarbones before moving to suck and kiss every bit of bare skin he can reach. All Stiles can do is moan.

He moves his hand into Derek’s hair, pulling on the strands briefly, before his other hand moves down to the curve of Derek’s back, urging him forwards. It’s then he feels Derek is just as hard for him as he is for Derek. Derek grumbles at the direct contact and goes to attack Stiles’ neck further, leaving biting kisses Stiles is sure that will leave a mark.

Stiles bites his lip, shifting his hand to the front of Derek’s pants and going to cup him through the material. Derek releases a breathy moan, forcing Stiles to look up at him. “Is this okay?” 

“More than okay.” Derek’s eyes are still shining gold and Stiles won’t deny he gets a kick out of the confirmation that he makes Derek feel this way. His spark flutters appreciatively inside his chest. _Wolf likes us, wolf likes us too, look what wolf feels for us._

The wolf in question must also definitely be uncomfortably hard in his jeans and Stiles shifts to zip him out. Derek’s hands had moved down to his zipper as well in the meantime and it’s like the stars had aligned for both of them to touch the other’s dick at the same time. Fuck, it feels good. Derek’s cock feels thick in his hands and all Stiles can think about is wanting to sink down on it sometime soon.

Looking down, desire floods his stomach at the sight of it. Because of course Derek’s dick is perfect, uncut and already leaking a few drops of precum. He goes to move his fingers across it tentatively before curling his fist around Derek’s length and starting to move up and down in a hopefully steady pace. 

Derek moans above him, hips jerking forwards into Stiles’ hand. Stiles licks his lips, trying not to focus on where their dicks almost touch, and goes to watch how Derek’s mouth has fallen open at the sensation. Stiles moves up his pace, fastening the movements he’s making and tightening his hold. Derek groans, dropping his head onto Stiles’ shoulder, and Stiles can feel his shoulders are shaking underneath his touch. 

Fuck, Stiles can feel his own cock starting to leak just at the sight alone. 

Then Derek’s hand is on his cheek, forcing him to look up into his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Stiles. So fucking perfect.”

His cheeks redden without his permission and his answer turns into the most desperate sound he’s ever produced because Derek starts moving his hand along his shift with a ridiculously rapid pace. Which..fucking hell, he’s not going to last long at all. Especially not with how pleased his body feels, how happily his spark is drumming underneath his ribs. _Yes, yes, yes._

“Look at you. Loving the things I’m doing to you.” Derek growls into his ear, his breath hot and heavy on his skin. “Does it feel good?” 

“So good. Please never stop Derek. Shit.” Stiles can’t help the moans from falling off his lips, not even stopping when Derek goes to kiss him roughly. His hand still going up and down Stiles’ shaft in a punishing rhythm. Then Derek’s fingers leave and Stiles can’t help but gasp as Derek brings their dicks together, pressed up tightly against each other as Derek’s fist moves over them together. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Fuck yes. Derek, fuck.” His voice sounds incredibly raspy even to his own ears. 

“You look so good like this.” Derek sounds close to a growl. “I always want to make you feel good. So good, you’ll never want anything else. Anyone else.” 

“I already don’t.” Stiles can’t help the words from falling out and isn’t even surprised to find he genuinely means them. It must be this connection between them, this bond, because Stiles has never felt like this. Sex has never felt like this. So good and so real and so fucking perfect. His entire body feels loaded with energy, currents sparking through his limbs.

A loud groan is hearable above him and he spears his eyes open to see Derek rutting his hips into his own fist and against Stiles’ cock, which fuuuuck. His breathing is uneven, his lungs coming up for air almost desperately, and he can’t help himself. “Derek you feel so fucking good. So fucking good, Derek. This is all I want. You are all I want.”

There are teeth on his neck then, blunt and definitely still human, and he can feel Derek rumbling against him. Biting down into his skin as the hot wetness of his come splashing over Stiles’ length. _“Mine._ ”

Derek’s body is shaking in waves of pleasure and Stiles moans as he wraps his arms around Derek and pulls him close. Allowing him to ride out the intense wave of his orgasm, even if his own dick is still desperately hard. 

It takes a minute for Derek to recover, his eyes still fuzzy when he looks up and his lips marked in a pleased little smile. Looking fucking adorable. He goes to kiss Stiles almost bruisingly, pressing their mouths together without much grace, and Stiles groans as the movement forces his dick against Derek’s belt buckle. 

Derek backs out of the kiss then, biting down at his lip as he does so, and is quick to get his hand back around Stiles’ cock. “Let me take care of you, Stiles.” 

“Fuck Derek,” his hips jerk forwards, “I’m not going to last long at all.” 

“Yes Stiles, come for me. I bet you look so beautiful when you come. That beautiful face with those fucking lustful lips of yours falling open because of what I do to you.” 

Stiles had never known dirty talk was apparently his thing, but he has a feeling anything Derek does will be his thing. A desperate sound comes out of his mouth as he finds his highpoint, his spark rising up inside his chest. _Mate takes good care of us. We love our wolf. Love our wolf,_ as he comes all over Derek’s hand.

As they look at each other, their eyes wide and filled with a sense of belonging, Stiles realizes it all just feels..right. He feels more in touch with himself, his spark and everything around him than he has in years. Somehow he knows that it’s because of Derek. It just is.

\--

Clean up was horrible. They’d barely taken any of their clothes off so Stiles’ shirt was now marked with the gross stains of Derek’s come, which Derek looked strangely pleased about, and god it had even gotten on his recipe book. What the hell. When the initial lust had ebbed away, Stiles found himself slightly embarrassed they’d just had sex in his office like the plot of some cheap porno. But it had been fucking hot, so yeah. He still did a rigorous cleaning job though, because he’s sure there would be many werewolves coming in here tomorrow and he did not want to see the judgy scrunching of their noses.

Derek just seemed proud of the fact, chest all puffed up and smirking at Stiles with amusement as he swiped the yellow cloth over his desk a last time. “They’ll still be able to smell it Stiles.”

Stiles sends him an annoyed glare. “At least let me pretend I am not the worst employee of the month.” 

“Erica beats you in that in every aspect.” Derek chuckles, but his smirk does fade into a small smile as he comes to wrap his arms around Stiles’ waist. “You’re my favourite employee regardless though.” 

He’s nuzzling into Stiles’ neck, inhaling deeply and releasing content little sounds. Stiles grins despite himself. “Like what you smell?” 

“Never smelled anything as good as you before. My wolf wanted you from the moment you walked in here.”

Stiles turns in Derek’s arms, raising his chin to face the other man. A small smile at his lips. “I’d say it’s pretty clear that my spark wants you and your wolf wants me.” 

“Seems so.” Derek looks pleased at the fact, a slight blush even creeping onto his cheeks.

And whilst Stiles knows exactly what his spark wants and yes whenever he’s around Derek all he wants to do is come closer and when Derek was shot he’d never worked so fucking hard and he could not lose him and yes what they just did felt insane and out of this world and yes there is a supernatural kind of connection there, but that’s what worries him. He goes to bite down at his lip, going to look down at his shoes, anxiety rushing through his stomach.

Derek won’t let him though, placing his fingers underneath Stiles’ chin and forcing him to look up into his eyes. His now worried eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

Stiles swallows, before deciding fuck it and going to ask the question he’s been wanting to ask this entire night. “What about your human side, does that like me?” 

“That’s what you’re suddenly all anxious about?” Derek huffs out a breath, going to wrap his arms around Stiles and pulling him against his chest. Stiles buries himself in Derek’s shoulder, finding comfort in the warmth of the broad muscles in front of him. Derek kisses the top of his head. “My human side also likes you a lot Stiles. Do you think I just let anyone dictate the music in my car? I let you play pop for god’s sake.” 

Stiles laughs at that but he can’t help but release a breath at the weight that was just lifted from his shoulders. It’s silly, but he is just so done with every big thing that happens in his life somehow having a supernatural origin. He’d just wanted to live. Be normal. But here he is, working in a secret supernatural bar and somehow bonded to a beta werewolf. 

“Okay good.” Stiles smiles, before shrugging slightly. “I just wasn’t sure.” 

“Hey,” Derek’s eyes are honest when they look at each other from within their close embrace, “I told you. My wolf is a part of me, sometimes with its own mind and intentions. But always still me.”

A grin comes to Stiles’ lips. “I know. I’m just kind of done with feeling like everything in my life being determined by the supernatural. And I like you, even without all that stuff. So how about we take things slow? Go out on a date. Have fun. Human style.”

Derek nuzzles into his neck. “Human style sounds perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IT'S LATE IM SORRY
> 
> there is no erica in this chapter and it pains me. I will bombard you with her again next time


End file.
